Deception
by Dagibsta
Summary: What happens when a ghost from Arya's past is found to be alive? How will Eragon be affected? Read to find out. Events set post Brisingr. I don't own Inheritance Cycle or any of the characters.
1. Chapter 1

Hey guys, this is my first fanfic. Hope you like it. Let me know if it's even worth continuing :) R&R!

Chapter 1

Fear. Anger. Frustration. Eragon's mind was filled with these emotions as he tried to deal with the turmoil within himself that threatened to destroy him. Five days had passed since the deaths of his mentors, teachers, and friends: Oromis and Glaedr.

Eragon stared into the embers of a dying fire, trying to regain his composure. He was miles away from Feinster, on a scouting trip to discover any remaining troops of the king. He would be returning to Feinster the next day, much to his chagrin. A few feet away sat Arya, feelings hidden behind an emotionless mask of indifference.

"As always," thought Eragon.

"Is there something troubling you Eragon?" prodded Arya, waking Eragon from his morbid thoughts.

"No," responded Eragon, "I am just tired."

"It is unhealthy to bury your emotions deep within yourself," advised the elven princess.

"You would do well to heed your own advice," Eragon remarked in an angry tone.

_Little one, do not be angry with Arya for something that is beyond her control_, came the gentle voice of Saphira in his mind.

After several moments of reflection, Eragon realized his mistake. "I apologize for my short temper with you, Drottningu. The night air has addled my brains. It shall not happen again," he said, with bitterness still evident in his voice.

Still the raven-haired elf persisted. "It does not matter. My original question still stands: what troubles you on such a beautiful night?"

Frustration boiled up inside of Eragon. "You wish to know what bothers me? Very well. For nigh on two years, I have sacrificed nearly everything to topple Galbatorix upon his black throne. Consequently, nearly everyone I care for has been killed because of my actions: Garrow, Brom, and now Oromis and Glaedr; not to mention countless others who have fought alongside me, from Ajihad to Hrothgar to the Murtagh I once knew," answered Eragon, his voice rising to a shout. "When will it end? I cannot continue on in this violence, knowing that I will only lose more loved ones to this war. That is what troubles me, Arya," concluded Eragon, with tears rolling down his face.

Tears came unbidden to Arya's eyes as she watched grief nearly destroy the person she cared about most in life.

"Eragon," she said, as emerald eyes met chocolate eyes. Putting her hand gently on his cheek, she continued. "You are not alone. You are still loved by many people. Saphira is still here for you. I am still here for you. Don't ever forget that." she said with anger in her voice, but at the same time, took his hand in hers.

With tears still streaming down his cheeks, Eragon laid his head on her shoulder, until they slowly drifted into sleep.

_Something is not right_, warned Saphira in the confines of Eragon's mind as they landed in the castle at Feinster. Men scrambled everywhere within the city, preparing for the eventual invasion of Belatona that was soon to come.

_I agree_, responded Eragon. _Everybody seems worried and fearful. We must be careful._

_It is you who must be careful, little one. You always seem to attract trouble. I, on the other hand, am a dragon. Nobody dares to bother me._

_As you say, Saphira. I am going to find out what is wrong_, thought Eragon. Turning to Arya, he asked, "I am going to see Nasuada. Will you come with me?"

"Of course," came the reply, in the diplomatic voice that belonged to Arya. Quickly, they clambered off of Saphira, as she launched into the air, in search of food to satisfy her ravenous hunger.

Minutes later, the pair arrived at Nasuada's tent, guarded by her Nighthawks. Nodding their approval, the two entered the tent, only to find Nasuada sitting on a chair, with a look of distress on her face.

"What is wrong?" exclaimed Eragon, upon seeing his liegelord in such a state of stress.

"We have captured a prisoner who claims to have very valuable information about Galbatorix. You must speak with him immediately. It is of upmost importance," came Nasuada's terse reply, her voice shaking with fear.

"Of course," responded Eragon, concern apparent in his voice.

"I shall accompany him," declared Arya, eager to see this new source of danger.

"No!" shouted Nasuada, surprising the two visitors. "Only Eragon may see him."

Fuming, Arya stormed out of the tent, offended by Nasuada's boldness. Eragon turned to follow, intending to attend to the prisoner. However, he was stopped in his tracks by the ominous words of his liegelord.

"Be careful Eragon. This changes everything we know."

After a long walk to the cold, dark dungeons, Eragon finally found himself standing in front of cell that held the mysterious prisoner. Opening the door, he was shocked to find an elf, bound hand and foot in iron chains.

Looking up, the elf uttered seven fateful words.

"Hello Eragon Shadeslayer," spoke the elf in a pained voice. "My name is Glenwing."


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys, I'm back! Sorry it took so long to upload this new chapter (for all you people without a sense of humor out there, that was a joke!) Anyway, hope you like the new chapter. Thanks to TheMeepsta for reviewing chapter 1. For all you other people that didn't review, start reviewing now!**

Chapter 2

Faolin was alive.

For two years, Arya had mourned his death, trying to move on, to learn to love again. The entire elven nation mourned with her, grieving the first elves to die in battle in nearly a century.

But they were all deceived.

For two painful years, Faolin and his companion Glenwing had languished in the dungeons beneath Uru'baen. For two painful years, they had been subjected to the torturous rage of Galbatorix.

Until now.

"How do you feel?" came a soft voice behind her that she knew could only belong to one person.

"What do you want with me, Eragon?" she replied in a cold voice, without even turning around, watching the sun set as she sat on the seashore outside Feinster.

"If my presence is unwelcome-" started Eragon, before being interrupted by the elven princess.

"No, I did not mean to offend. I am just confused right now," apologized Arya, realizing her short temper. "Everything I believed, everything I held onto these last two years is a lie."

This caught Eragon off guard, and for several minutes, they sat in a silence only broken by the sound of their breathing.

"How did it happen?" Arya asked suddenly, breaking the icy silence between them.

"According to Glenwing, another magician resided in Durza's ambush group," began Eragon. "After you escaped the initial ambush, Durza chased after you, trying to seize Saphira's egg," he continued. "While he was gone, the other magician healed Faolin and Glenwing, barely saving them from certain death, before spiriting them away to Uru'baen. Murtagh's capture happened in a very similar manner," Eragon concluded.

Tears streaked down Arya's cheeks as she realized that Faolin, her beloved Faolin, had not perished, as she had believed. However, more tears surfaced as she considered what her companion had endured these last two years. Guilt filled her soul, causing her to cry out in pain.

"What has Galbatorix done to him?" she cried out to no one in particular.

"I do not know," said Eragon in a soft voice. "Glenwing refuses to tell me what devilry they endured. He had trouble even recounting his miraculous escape."

Another choked cry came from Arya's lips, evidence of the inner turmoil that threatened to overcome her.

"Thank you for bringing this news, Eragon," choked Arya. "If you don't mind, I would like to be alone now."

His fading footsteps were the last thing she heard before falling into a fitful sleep.

Morning came, and Arya awoke with a start to the sound of crashing waves along the shore. For a few short moments, she was content, until the memories of the previous day hit her like a punch in the gut.

Quickly, she arose and found her way back to the crowded city of Feinster. Weaving her way through the bustling streets, she attracted the gaze of many soldiers. Disgusted, she ignored their stares and continued towards the main keep.

Arriving at the keep, she noticed Saphira outside the walls, staring into the distance. Slowly, she walked towards the sapphire dragon, intending to greet her.

"Hello Saphira. How do you fare on this morning?" she asked.

Receiving no response, she reached out with her mind, trying to find entrance into the dragon's mind. Instead, she found her way blocked by an impassable mental wall composed of grief and anger.

Concerned, the elf gracefully strode into the keep, seeking answers from Nasuada. Ignoring the angry objections of the Nighthawks, she dashed into the makeshift command center. Nasuada, unsurprised by the new visitor, merely declared, " I wondered when you would come."

Angrily, Arya responded, "Why is Saphira so upset?"

With a sigh, Nasuada finally answered. "With your mother's agreement, I sent a team to rescue Faolin from the dungeons of Uru'baen."

Arya quickly realized the gravity of the situation. "Who did you send?" her voice quickly rising to a shout. "Who did you send!"

But she already knew the answer.

Eragon had gone to save Faolin.

**Sorry to leave you guys hanging, but that's just how I roll Anyway, I would really appreciate some reviews, so hurry up and start reviewing. CLICK THE BUTTON THAT SAYS REVIEW! IT'S REALLY NOT THAT HARD! Just kidding, but really, I want some reviews.**

**Peace out**

**-Dagibsta**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys, here's the new chapter. Hope you like it, because I really enjoyed writing this chapter. It's a lot longer than the previous chapters, which is good. Anyway, R&R, you know the drill.**

Chapter 3

A lone figure appeared on the horizon. From a distance, the individual seemed to be traveling at a normal pace. Upon closer inspection, it became evident that this traveler was skirting the countryside at an inhuman speed, creating a cloud of dust that trailed behind him. The figure effortlessly glided across the deserted countryside, covering several miles in a matter of minutes. This was not a normal traveler.

"Why did I choose to do this?" thought Eragon for the thousandth time that day. As he ran across the barren countryside, his mind wandered back to the moment he chose to go after the captured elf. He had begun to regret his hasty decision to save Faolin from the clutches of Galbatorix. Even now, he tried to remember his reasons for embarking on the seemingly impossible mission. And then he remembered.

Arya.

After she had learned the news of Faolin's survival, eragon had seen a new side of Arya: one composed of grief, despair, and hopelessness. It had broken his heart to see her in such a state. As he had left her alone that night on the beach, he had resolved to do anything in his power to make her smile once more, even if it caused him endless pain. And that meant saving Faolin.

As soon as he had realized this, he had gone to Nasuada, seeking her advice on the matter.

_"I seek your permission to rescue Faolin from Uru'baen," Eragon had said upon entering Nasuada's tent._

_Shock and surprise appeared on Nasuada's face. "Why in the world would I send Alagaesia's only hope of freedom straight into the hands of enemy! Go to bed, Eragon. You are not thinking clearly."_

_But he refused to move a single inch. "I am going."_

_Worry took Nasuada as she realized that he was serious about rescuing Faolin. "Eragon, please, think about it. You cannot succeed. If we lost you in the black city, we would have no chance of surviving this war. Think about all of the lives that depend on you. Do not needlessly throw them away. Why do you wish to save him anyway?"_

_Eragon remained unperturbed. "I wish to save him because I have seen too much death in this blasted war! I can save him from death. And think! I can find, and possibly steal, the last egg! Even more important, Galbatorix holds power over Arya while he still holds Faolin!" Receiving no response, he continued. "Galbatorix will not expect me to walk straight into the black city. I can find valuable information that will help us to bring down the city when we attack it!"_

_"The risk is not worth it. You are not going. That is final," declared Nasuada._

_"I will go with or without your permission. I am a Rider. You cannot stop me. Furthermore, if you continue to refuse, it will only tarnish the relationship between vassal and lord."_

_A sigh escaped Nasuada's lips. "Very well. I see that you will listen to no one. You may go. Just remember how many will die if you are captured. And... Saphira will stay here. I will not risk losing the only free dragon as well. Nothing you say will change my mind about this."_

_"As you wish. The next time you see me, Faolin will be with me," said Eragon, struggling to contain his anger at leaving Saphira. However, he knew it was necessary. After a quick farewell to Saphira, he had slipped unnoticed out of Feinster and into the darkness beyond..._

The appearance of a band of soldiers on the horizon quickly jolted Eragon out of his recollection. Quickly, he recited an incantation that would bend light rays around his body, rendering him invisible. It was the same spell that he had used to evade a band of soldiers during his return from Helgrind.

Upon the spell's completion, Eragon stopped running, and he waited for the soldiers to pass out of sight. Adrenaline coursed through his veins as he prepared for a possible fight. He knew that even if he was discovered, the soldiers would not recognize him. Before departing from the Varden, Eragon had changed the bone structure and appearance of his entire face. When he viewed himself in a mirror afterwards, even he did not recognize himself.

Eventually, the king's soldiers passed over the horizon, allowing Eragon to finally resume his journey. He released his spell, and continued on his course. He grunted, as he once again felt the throbbing headache that had plagued him throughout day, caused by the constant pounding of feet against the unforgiving ground. After several more hours of relentless running, Eragon stopped for the night, making a meager meal out of the basic provisions he had brought. Before finally slipping into a fitful sleep, he contacted Nasuada about his progress. Only then was he reminded how much he missed Saphira.

Over the next few days, Eragon encountered no unforeseen difficulties. Every day was filled with countless hours of mindless running, until he felt he could take no more. Sun and moon passed him by, and the landscape slowly began to change into a dry, arrid terrain. Each day, however, he spotted more and more refugees fleeing the Black City in search of a more peaceful land. Guilt gnawed at his soul, knowing that he was the cause of their relocation, until he finally silenced his qualms by remembering his discussions with Oromis about his reasons for waging this war.

Finally, after several mind-numbing days, Eragon finally received his first glimpse of the imposing black citadel: Uru'baen. Black towers reared into the sky, surrounded by massive walls that seemed impossible to breach. A massive gate guarded the only entrance into the city, towering over the young rider like an iron mountain. Eragon's piercing eyes alighted on hundreds of soldiers manning the outer wall. If these forces were not sufficient, there were also dozens of barracks, potentially housing thousands of additional soldiers, all intent upon destroying the Varden. In addition, Eragon knew that deep in the heart of the city lay Galbatorix himself, the man Eragon must kill. A feeling of hopelessness washed over eragon like a tsunami, striking fear deep into his heart.

Ignoring his discomfort, Eragon quietly slipped into the city under the guise of Bergan, a poor farmer who had come to the city to trade for farming implements. With this simple explanation, the soldiers at the gate did not question Eragon further. After gaining entrance, Eragon reserved a room at a small inn, and began to make his preparations for his impossible rescue. Carefully, he began chanting the spells that would shield him from the eyes of the king's minions. Despite the spell's usefulness, the Rider knew the setbacks and limitations of this particular spell: often, it failed to fully eliminate the spellcaster's shadow. But on this moonless night deep within the black city, Eragon would cast no shadow.

When midnight finally arrived, Eragon began his journey deep into the heart of the enemy stronghold. Jumping from his upper level room, he made no noise as he silently padded along the nearly empty streets. Within minutes, he arrived at his first obstruction: the entrance to the black castle. Seeing the entrance blocked by several soldiers, he muttered a single word that would create the diversion he needed to gain entrance.

"Brisingr!"

Instantly, a small house burst into flames down the street, sending the soldiers scrambling to discover the cause of the commotion. With the stealth of a tiger, Eragon silently slipped past the distracted guards and into the castle.

From information obtained by the Varden, he knew that the dungeons were located deep underground. First, though, he needed to locate the egg. Slowly, he began to ascend through the towers, keeping his mind carefully guarded. After several hours of searching, he was about to abandon the search when he heard the raised voice of murtagh coming from a passage to his right. Following it, he discovered a cavernous room, filled with dozens of guards and several magicians. Also present were murtagh and thorn, yelling at the guards for some unknown reason. But in the center of the room lay and emerald green egg.

Adrenaline pumped through eragon's body, until he realized that he could not rescue the egg tonight. Surrounded by a dragon, Rider, and countless guards, he would never make it out alive. Slowly, he shied away from the room and silently descended, moving onto another goal: Faolin.

After what seemed like an endless descent, the Rider finally reached his goal: the dungeons. Screams and moans instantly penetrated his ears, and anger surged through his veins. Finding his pathway blocked by two cruel soldiers, Eragon quietly whispered one of the twelve words of death he had learned from Oromis, and instantly the flames of the soldiers' minds were extinguished. Wordlessly, he continued on into the impenetrable darkness, eager to find Faolin. At each cell he encountered, he found only the stench of death. At last, only one door remained to be opened. With a word in the Ancient Language, the door burst open to display a disturbing scene. Two men stood with their backs to Eragon, whipping a sickly elf that hung from manacles. Furious, Eragon immediately thrust Brisingr into their hearts, spilling their life blood upon the stones below. Fearing the worst, he released the elf's manacles with magic, catching the limp body before it could hit the blood stained floor. Recovering his focus, Eragon quickly expanded his invisibility spell to include the frail elf. Almost instantly, he felt a noticeable decrease in his strength, as his legs threatened to collapse beneath him. A moment later, he recovered from the sudden loss, and continued on.

Hoisting Faolin onto his shoulders, the warrior sprinted back the way he came, eager to be free of the oppressive darkness. While he ascended the seemingly endless staircase, he passed several soldiers descending to the hell below. None, however, noticed the rushing of air that blew pass them. After finally reaching the top of the stairs, freedom was in sight. Everything had gone according to plan; success was inevitable.

At that moment, Eragon's luck suddenly changed. Alarms began to blare as the dead soldiers were finally discovered.

"Close the gate!" came a shout from the ramparts above. This voice awoke Eragon from his momentary confusion: sprinting, he slid under the rapidly closing gate with Faolin in his arms. Milliseconds later, the gate slammed down, trapping all others inside the castle.

Without another thought, Eragon ran to his room at the inn, jumping to the second story and climbing in through the open window. Galbatorix would not be able to search every single room in the city; safety belonged to Eragon until the morning. It was not until they entered the room that Eragon fully realized the extent of Faolin's injuries. Cuts and gashes covered his entire body, and bruises adorned his skin. Drawing upon his remaining strength, as well as the energy in Aren, he set to healing the elf's numerous wounds. After several hours, he finished the immense task. Satisfied, he decided to finally make mental contact with the wounded elf, worried that Faolin had not awoken yet. Reaching out with the tendrils of his mind, he encountered only a cold steel wall. Suddenly, the elf retaliated, ramming into eragon's mind with the strength of a dragon.

"Who are you!" roared a deafening voice within Eragon's skull, while the mental force immobilized him.

With as much force as he could muster, Eragon responded. "I am Eragon Shadeslayer, last free Dragon Rider in all of Alagaesia. I have rescued you from the dungeons of Uru'baen and have healed your wounds. I am a friend."

Upon hearing the words, the mental force abated, and the elf stirred beside Eragon. After several seconds, he awoke, and his dark eyes found the chocolate eyes of Eragon.

"Why did you come for me?" questioned Faolin in a voice barely louder than a whisper.

"You helped the Varden when it needed it most. I am simply repaying the favor." answered Eragon, trying to conceal the true reason he had come.

Faolin considered this for several moments before saying, "Thank you for saving me, Rider. I am forever in your debt."

"Get some rest, Faolin. You will need it for our journey tomorrow," was Eragon's only reply. With that, the two men drifted into silent sleep, only broken by the desperate query of Faolin.

"Rider, tell me, what has become of Arya, princess of the elves?" he begged in a desperate voice.

"She is safe and protected, awaiting our return to the city of Feinster."

Content, Faolin closed his eyes and succumbed to sleep.

Early the next morning, the pair slipped invisibly through the gates of the black city amongst the many people bustling in and out through the gate. For several miles, they stuck to the main road, disguising themselves among the many travelers. Judging from their progress, Eragon was feeling very optimistic about the mission. Slipping from the road, Eragon deemed it appropriate to contact Nasuada about their progress.

"Draumr kopa," he muttered, and instantly the image of Nasuada's tent appeared upon the water before them.

With a look of surprise on her face, Nasuada turned to greet her vassal. "Eragon, I see that you have been successful in your mission!" she exclaimed, with relief suffusing her features.

"Very successful, if I might add," remarked eragon with a smug look on his face. "I located the egg, but it was too heavily guarded for me to escape without being caught."

"Good, now hurry up and return to Feinster. We have need of-" her voice was suddenly cut off by the pained scream of Faolin behind him. Whipping around, eragon quickly found the source of the pain: a black fletched arrow protruded from faolin's shoulder.

Without warning, the soldiers descended on them with gleaming swords and glistening shields. Unbeknownst to eragon, they had hidden themselves in a ditch along the side of the road, awaiting travelers who fit the description of the two criminals who had escaped Uru'baen.

Despite the well planned ambush, the soldiers were no match for eragon. Brisingr slashed and cut, destroying all that stood in its path. Within minutes, every soldier lay dead at eragon's feet. Eragon desperately combed his mind to understand how the soldiers had known who he was. His only conclusion was that the king had placed a spell which had tracked the pair to their current position. He had been lucky, though, he thought, to have escaped such an ambush.

But Faolin was not. Even after Eragon healed the wound caused by the arrow, the elf's condition rapidly deteriorated. Finally, before slipping into unconciousness, he muttered a single, barely decipherable word to Eragon.

"Poison."


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm baaaack! Done with chapter four! Please don't freak out at the beginning of the chapter, just keep reading. And for all of you out there that hate cliff hangers, I am happy to tell you that there is not a cliff hanger at the end of this chapter! Anyways, hope you enjoy it, and as always, R&R!**

Chapter 4

Rain fell from the heavens, drenching all that lay beneath its fury. It seemed as if thousands of teardrops fell from the eyes of gods in the skies above, washing away the filth of war that stained the ground below. To Arya, however, it seemed as if the gods above shared her unbearable grief over the loss of the two individuals who had stolen her heart: Eragon and Faolin.

Two days had passed since Eragon's last communication with the Varden, and Arya braced herself for the news that would inevitably arrive. The poison that had struck Faolin had taken effect almost immediately, seizing control of his nervous system and sending him into a state of unconsciousness. From experience, she knew that a poison this effective could easily kill within two days. There was no chance of survival for her beloved Faolin. It seemed a cruel joke of fate to send Faolin back into her life, only to take him back so quickly. Hot tears streaked down her cheeks as she struggled to contain the emotions within her that threatened to explode out of her with the fury of an earthquake.

Despite these depressing thoughts, she still felt hope for Eragon. It was possible that he was still alive, his heart still beating rebelliously within his chest. But it was still unlikely, and Arya knew it. Saphira had returned early that morning, devastated, as she had failed to find Eragon. But with the dragon's return, she knew in her heart that Eragon would never return to her, that she would never again see his piercing brown eyes.

_How cruel life is_, thought Arya. _Everything you believe can change in the blink of an eye._

And so it did once more.

Suddenly, a cry tore through the camp, restoring hope once more to Arya's broken spirit.

"Eragon returns!"

Without pausing to think, the elven princess sprinted to the outermost wall of Feinster, desperate to see if the cry was the truth. On the horizon, with Faolin's limp body in his arms, was Eragon. Even from a distance, Arya could tell that the Rider was moving across the ground with a speed that she believed was impossible for even the elves to achieve.

Immediately, her thoughts turned to the limp body that was Faolin. Was he alive? Could he still be saved? Dozens of questions ran through her brain, but she had no answers to them. Within minutes, Eragon had reached the walls of Feinster. With all of grace and agility of an elf, the young Rider slipped through the open gates and into the bustling city. After only a few seconds, he had reached the castle, still bearing Faolin in his arms. Extreme exhaustion was evident on his face, as he carefully entered the medical tent, setting the body gently down upon an empty bed.

"Find Angela!" he roared suddenly, as several healers scrambled to find the mysterious witch as quickly as possible. Silently, Arya slipped into the tent. Tears rolled down her flawless face as she finally beheld the face of the man she loved, the man she had believed to be dead. Minutes later, Angela waltzed into the crowded tent, and for once, even she was surprised.

"How did you get-" she began, before being cut off by Eragon.

"Later. Right now, this elf has only minutes left to live. Already, he has begun to fade into the void. The poison that runs through his veins is one I have never encountered before. As far as I can discern, it was made from the nectar of the Black Morning Glory. Hurry, please!"

"He is a lucky one, this elf," muttered Angela, as she examined him. His breathing, barely existent, came in short, ragged gasps, and his hands had begun to tremble. "Coincidentally, I have just the antidote that will spare him from the void. I believe that he will live to fight another day."

Arya, kneeling at Faolin's side, gave a shout of relief as she learned that her loved one would probably survive. She was joined in her cry of joy by the thirteen elven spellcasters, who had silently slipped into the tent. In their moment of ecstasy, nobody noticed Eragon as he quietly stumbled to his own tent, finally succumbing to his exhaustion and slipping into unconsciousness.

Nasuada strode into the cramped tent, intent on finally seeing the elf that had caused her so much worry and anxiety. She found the sick elf without much difficulty. He lay in a bed in a far corner of the tent, surrounded by dozens of people, including 14 elves. Arya lay asleep in a chair next to him, her head resting upon his chest. Angela, weary from her work, was the first to notice and greet the leader of the Varden.

"Ah, Nasuada, may I introduce you to Faolin, escort to the eggbearer. Unfortunately, he's in no state to talk to you; although, he is in much better shape than when Eragon brought him to me," spoke Angela in a light, airy tone.

Nasuada's eyes began to flick back and forth, desperately searching the room for a single person. "Speaking of Eragon, where is he?" asked Nasuada in the calmest voice she could manage. Immediately, she saw the guilt dawn on the elves' faces as they realized that they had failed to protect the young Rider. "Where is he?" she repeated, her voice rising to nearly a shout.

Suddenly, the angry roar of a dragon swept across the city, heard by all in the city. Without another thought, Blodhgarm whipped out of tent, sprinting towards Eragon's tent. Outside, he found Saphira, still roaring with pain.

"Help him, elf!" she screamed inside his mind. Desperately, he pushed inside the tent that held Eragon. The young Rider lay unconscious on his bed, sweat covering his limbs. In addition, his entire body shook and he began to scream out in pain.

Frantically, Blodhgarm grabbed Eragon, and entered his mind, attempting to wake him. Within seconds, the Rider stopped shaking and cracked his eyes open.

"Shadeslayer, what happened?" inquired Blodhgarm with a look of concern on his wolfish face.

"Nothing. Just a nightmare," muttered Eragon, trying to forget the incident. Rising shakily from the bed, he said, "I better go. Nasuada will want to see me." With that, he left the tent, leaving Blodhgarm alone.

Making his way through the city, Eragon finally arrived at the command center of the Varden, guarded by several Nighthawks. After gaining their approval, Eragon entered into the circular stone room, and found himself in the middle of a war council. Present were Nasuada, King Orrin, and even Queen Islanzadi, through the enchanted mirror.

"Hello, Eragon. Please take a seat," came Nasuada's voice. Obeying, he took a seat at the end of the table, finding every eye in the room fixed on him. For the next hour, he recounted his journey to the black city, including even the smallest details. All the while, the three leaders listened intently, occasionally asking questions about specific parts of his story. Finally, he reached the point when Faolin had been struck by the poisoned arrow.

"What in the world did you do after you healed his wound?" came Orrin's curious query.

"I ran," came Eragon's simple reply. Shock dawned on every face in the room as they realized what he was saying.

"That is impossible," came Islanzadi's proud voice. "Even the fastest elf would take three days at least to reach Feinster from Uru'baen, even without the added burden of carrying a body."

"It is true nonetheless," Eragon replied. "On this journey, I found a strength within myself that I did not know existed; a strength which allowed me to achieve the impossible. You may not believe it, but that is the truth. Make of it what you will."

Sensing the tension, Nasuada quickly intervened with important news. "Thank you Eragon. I think that we have spoken enough for one day. Furthermore, the elves have just informed me that Faolin is about to awaken. Our presences are required."

Surrounded by Nighthawks, Eragon and Nasuada made their way to the healing tent. Just as they entered, Eragon sensed Faolin beginning to stir. Within another minute, the elf had fully awoken, to the joyous cries of everyone of in the tent. He arose, and embraced several of the elves surrounding him that he knew. Suddenly, the dark eyes of Faolin locked on to the emerald eyes that belonged to Arya. Every eye in the tent focused on them as they embraced, holding each other in their arms for several minutes. Eventually, their lips met, and Eragon saw a smile of complete happiness on Arya's face.

Eragon could take no more. Faking a weak smile, he quickly turned and exited the tent, unable to watch Arya any longer. He wandered aimlessly down the streets of Feinster, paying no attention to where he was going. All he felt was the pain in his heart, a pain so intense he felt his heart would physically break in two. After several minutes of this wandering, he stopped, finding himself once more on the beach. Hours passed, and still Eragon sat on the beach, trying to survive the pain. He stared out at the ocean, and it seemed to him that the waves were one with his breathing.

A sudden gust of air next to the Rider signaled the arrival of Saphira. _Little one_, she thought, _how is it that she can cause you this much pain?_

_I do not know_, he replied. _I am happy that she has found happiness with someone. That does not make the pain any less, however._

_You must let her go_, responded Saphira. _It is the only way to heal from this pain you are feeling._

_I have tried Saphira! Every day, I try to let her go, but I cannot!_

_Then you must endure the pain_ was the dragon's only response.

Without another sound, the dragon and her rider, still battling his pain, fell asleep on the shores of the sea.


	5. Chapter 5

**Here's the new chapter! I gotta admit, this one is a filler, but it was necessary to bridge the gap between Feinster and Belatona. I hope it shouldn't be too boring:) And please, review!**

Chapter 5

With the golden sun beating down upon his face, Eragon awoke, brushing the messy chestnut hair from his eyes. Beside him lay the partner of his heart, Saphira, scales glistening in the bright morning light. Together they lay, temporarily secluded from the troubles of their world. With a sigh, the troubled young Rider pulled himself off the ground, ready to start a new day. Standing beside Saphira, he performed the first three levels of the Rimgar. Sweat soon drenched his shirt as the increasingly difficult moved began to take their toll. Finally, he finished the exercise, as he strolled over to stroke Saphira's neck.

_Little one_, she called, _would you like to take a swim with me?_

A grin snuck its way onto Eragon's face. _Of course_, he responded as he nimbly jumped onto her back. Soon they were in the air, diving into the clear, turquoise water. Once submerged, Eragon found himself struggling to hold onto Saphira's saddle. Together, they kicked and glided through the water, enjoying each other's presence. As they emerged from the sea, Eragon gave a shout of pure exhiliration. For a moment, he forgot all worries, merely focusing on the present, and the pain he felt seemed to melt away.

But nothing can be forgotten forever.

As he lay on the beach next to his dragon, the pain of the previous day found him yet again. He remembered who he had saved, and the pain it had caused him. But most of all, he remembered Arya.

Confusion welled up inside him as he tried to determine his feelings for her. He loved her more than anything else in the world, and she meant everything to him. She was Isidar Mithrim of his heart: an invaluable jewel that should be treasured and loved. More than anything, he longed to be with her, to protect her, to comfort her. Whenever she hurt, he hurt too; whenever she grieved, he grieved with her. Her pain was his pain, and he would do anything to alleviate her discomfort. She deserved someone who could make her smile, and Eragon knew that he could not do this. No matter how hard he tried, he could not make her smile as she did when Faolin awoke. It pained him more than anything to see them together, but he knew that she was happy. Wasn't her happiness worth enduring a little pain?

_Do not brood on such thoughts little one,_ admonished Sapira, nudging him with her snout. _It will not change anything, except to hurt you even further. _

_I know_, replied Eragon. _At least I will always have you._

Their silent conversation was soon interrupted as Eragon sensed the approach of a young boy, most likely a messenger. However, it still took several minutes for the individual to reach them.

Bowing low, the boy delivered his message. "Nasuada requests your immediate presence at a war council," he said, stumbling over the words. Saphira snorted with laughter at the boy's extreme nervousness around her.

"Thank you. You delivered your message well." complimented Eragon. With an awkward bow, the squeamish messenger turned and ran back the way he had come.

With a groan, Eragon clambered onto Saphira's back as she launched herself into the sky using her powerful legs. Soon, Eragon was chuckling for no apparent reason. _What is so funny, Little One?_ inquired Saphira.

With another chuckle, Eragon responded. "I just realized how long it took that messenger to find us all the way out here."

* * *

><p>Soon, the pair arrived at the city's keep, where Nasuada had set up her temporary headquarters. As he entered the room, he was mildly surprised to find that the meeting was already in progress. Scanning the room, he was delighted to find an empty seat next to Arya. Quietly, he slipped into the chair next to her and tried to figure out what was happening in the meeting. Arya shot him a rare smile that caused his heart to leap; simultaneously, his heart back down his chest painfully as he remembered how she and Faolin had embraced the previous day.<p>

A loud voice quickly woke Eragon from his musings. "As I was saying, we will leave immediately to attack Belatona. However, the real question is this: what will we do once we take the city? Will we move onto Dras-Leona, or will we wait and recover? Personally, I am of the opinion that we cannot give Galbatorix time to regroup his forces, and that we must take Dras-Leona immediately after Belatona. By that time, the dwarves will have arrived, giving us even more strength. However, I would like to hear your opinions as well." concluded Nasuada. Murmurs swept through the room like wildfire as the various counselors discussed this new plan. Several individuals raised their voice to share their own opinions; however, Eragon was conspicuously taciturn. Finally, Nasuada turned to Eragon and asked, "What do you think, Eragon?"

All eyes settled on him, including the emerald orbs of Arya, as he rose from his chair. "Let me begin by saying, whatever outcome we decide to pursue, I will support it. However, I have just one thing to say: the sooner Galbatorix's throne is toppled, the sooner we can reclaim the lives we have lost." Shockwaves moved through the room as the others realized the wisdom in Eragon's opinion. Soon, it was decided that the Varden would immediately move onto Dras-Leona after Belatona. With the issue resolved, Nasuada ended the meeting, dismissing everyone from the room.

Relieved, Eragon quickly strode outside, eager to fly with Saphira, when a familiar voice stopped him in his tracks. "Eragon, wait for me!" Arya's voice drifted over to him over the cacophony of the city, once again evoking the contradiction of feelings within him. Slowly turning around, he saw her gracefully jogging towards him.

"I didn't get the chance to thank you yesterday for saving Faolin," she told him when she finally reached him.

There is no need to thank me. I was merely doing my duty," replied Eragon calmly, hiding the torrent of feelings that lay just beneath his cool, collected mask.

"You do not give yourself enough credit. I know what you risked to save him," she responded, and he found himself suddenly staring into her jade eyes. "So... thank you," and before he knew it, she was in his arms. The sweet aroma of crushed pine needles overpowered his senses, and his heart beat a thousand times a minute. Time slowed down; it seemed to him that they remained embraced for an eternity, when in reality, only a few seconds passed. Finally, they separated, and Arya whispered softly, "I will never forget what you have done for me." Then, as quickly as she had come, she was gone, leaving Eragon standing alone.

* * *

><p>Eragon woke, and was surprised to see his frosty breath right into front of his eyes. Three days had passed since his encounter with Arya, and yet he still couldn't stop thinking about it. A million questions ran through his mind, begging or answers. Grabbing a linen towel, he clambered out of his tent, headed towards a nearby stream. Two days previous, the majority of the Varden had departed from Feinster, leaving only a small group of soldiers to protect the city. Now, the group lay between Feinster and Belatona, inching closer to the city every day.<p>

Eragon reached his destination, and quickly undressed, setting his clothes and weapons aside. Rapidly, he stepped into the stream, submerging his sore body. He closed off his mind to the surroundings, and sunk deep into the water until only his face remained above the surface. Shutting his eyes, he relaxed his muscles, and tried to forget his stresses and worries. The water flowed over his body, washing away the grime and filth of travel. After several minutes, he emerged from the stream and began to dress. Suddenly, Eragon felt the cold touch of a steel sword on his neck. Startled, he raised his head, looking his attacker straight in the eyes. To his surprise, on the other end of the sword stood Faolin. A fire seemed to burn within his dark eyes, making him seem jealous and angry.

"Faolin, what are you doing?" questioned Eragon, trying to discover why the elf he had saved had suddenly turned against him.

"Do not try to contact Saphira. If you do, I will know and you will regret it dearly," responded Faolin. A mental force surrounded Eragon's mind, able to sense all of Eragon's communication.

"What do you want with me?" pleaded Eragon, troubled by Faolin's response.

"I saw what you did," growled Faolin, as the fire in his eyes seemed to rage unchecked.

Confused, Eragon replied, "I have no idea what you are talking about. Please, there is no need for violence. Let me go!"

Suddenly, the tip of the sword dug forward, causing a small amount of blood to seep to the surface. "I saw what you did with Arya. Three days ago! Do not lie!" Frantically, Eragon searched his mind for what had happened three days prior. Within seconds, he knew: his embrace with Arya. Panic began to set in as he realized that something was not right with Faolin.

"It was nothing. Only a friendly hug!" pleaded Eragon. He flinched as the pommel of the sword suddenly smashed into his face, breaking several facial bones.

"If I ever see anything like that again, I will not hesitate to kill you!" yelled Faolin desperately. "Do you understand?"

"Yes," muttered Eragon with a sickening feeling.

"Now promise me that you will tell nobody, including Saphira and Arya, of what has just transpired!" screamed Faolin. Reluctantly, Eragon made the oath in the Ancient Language. Then, Faolin disappeared, fading away into the dark trees.

* * *

><p>The next seven days passed as a blur of pain to Eragon. Every day was torture to him, watching Faolin with Arya. No matter how hard he tried, he was not able to break his oaths and tell of Faolin's true nature. His mind flashed back to his meeting with Nasuada several days ago:<p>

_"Please," begged Eragon, "he is a threat to the Varden!"_

_"Eragon, listen to yourself," scolded Nasuada, with a hint of exasperation in her voice. "If I expel Faolin from the Varden, it will irreparably harm our relations with the elves. I cannot do it."_

_Eragon stood up, pacing the length of the tent. "Nasuada, you must trust me. He cannot stay!"_

_But Nasuada would not relent. "If you want me to expel Faolin, you must tell me your reasons!"_

_"I cannot!" yelled Eragon in frustration._

The frustration still boiled within him as he failed to communicate the danger that was Faolin. Even more painful than seeing him with Arya were Eragon's encounters with the princess.

_One day, Eragon stood on the fringes of the camp, staring off into the sunset, trying to dispel the pain in his tormented soul. So intent upon his task, he did not notice as Arya joined him. Noticing the pain etched into his face, she put her hand gently upon his shoulder. "What troubles you so, Shadeslayer?" she prodded with a gentle tone. _

_Knowing what he must do to protect her, he turned to look her in the eyes, shrugging her hand off of his shoulders. With the pain apparent in his voice, he told her, "I cannot tell you. All that I can say is be careful. People can change." With those words, he turned and strode back into camp, leaving Arya confused and alone. _

Soon, his torture came to an end as the Varden finally reached Belatona. Situated on the southern tip of Leona Lake, Belatona was a city of craftsmen and artisans, and consequently was home to few soldiers. Even with Galbatorix's reinforcements, the city was expected to fall with minimal losses. Night quickly descended upon the city. Climbing into Saphira's back, Eragon and his partner climbed into the sky, soaring over the city. Saphira screamed a defiant roar towards the city, and illuminated the night sky with a jet of bright blue flame.

The siege of Belatona had begun.

* * *

><p><strong>Replying to WhiteWinterStar:<strong>

**Yeah, I realized that the point of views were getting a little confusing. Hopefully it was a little more clear this chapter. If not, feel free to let me know. **

**Replying to Draco Lucis:**

**I'm glad you like the story! As for you earlier predictions, all I can say is great minds think alike :)**

**Replying to Eragontheone:**

**Did I do a better job with Eragon's emotions this time? I tried to show how confused he was during the chapter. If you have any more suggestions, feel free to let me know. **

**Replying to Nocturnel:**

**Did I make him jerkish enough? (Is jerkish even a word?) As for the ExA part, it'll happen, don't worry about that :) I tried to show Eragon's emotions a little more, but I'm not sure how it's gonna turn out, so let me know!**

**Replying to pineapplegrl77:**

**Yeah, I didn't realize how repetitive the whole poison thing was until after I posted the chapter. I was pretty bummed out when i figured that out :( As for the running back from Uru'baen, I really didn't want to write another couple hundred words all about Eragon running. I admit, I could've gone into more detail, but I really did not want to. I'll keep it in mind for the future though, thanks!**

**Well, hope you guys liked the chapter (and the drama!). I'll try to get the next one up soon, but I won't have Internet access so it might take a couple days. But when I get back, I expect a ton of reviews! R&R!**


	6. Chapter 6

**I'm back! Sorry for the long wait, but I will be updating again soon! I promise! This chapter us pretty epic (at least in my opinion) but let me know what you think. There is one part that seems kinda unrealistic, but please read my explanation at the end before you start ripping on it!**

**A couple of people reviewed and thought Eragon acted pretty wimpy when Faolin confronted him last chapter. Here is my explanation for why he acted that way: **

**1. Faolin is an elf, probably just as fast as Eragon. If he had tried to make a move with Faolin's sword at his throat, it wouldn't have ended well. 2. Brisingr was laying several feet away, out of reach for Eragon to use. 3. Eragon could not use magic against Faolin because he did not know what wards Faolin had around him. **

**Well, there's the explanation. I admit, Eragon did seem kinda wimpy, but there wasn't a whole lot he could have done. **

**Anyways, hope you like the new chapter, and please review!**

**Replying to Rock of Kuthian:**

**I hate that too! Hopefully I can keep the ExA pretty slow.**

**Replying to TooLazyToLogin/Goldmoon:**

**The chapter was rushed, I know. I didn't feel I had enough content to make two whole chapters. As for the wimpy Eragon, I see where you are coming from. Please read the explanation above. And yes, Faolin's new personality will cause ExA somewhat, but not in the way you'd think. Did you like the little scene with Eragon, Arya, and Faolin? Well, that scene was for you. **

**Replying to Unique Fantasiser:**

**I'm glad you like the new Faolin! He's gonna get even crazier in the future!**

**Replying to no name:**

**Good! I'm glad you hate him, that's what I was aiming for. **

**Replying to .LOL:**

**Thanks for the support! And Arya will find out about Faolin sooner or later...**

**Replying to Eragontheone:**

**Did my explanation make sense? If not, let me know. The reason why Eragon didn't sense Faolin with his mind was because he had closed his mind off because he was too depressed. Sorry, I forgot to explain that part. **

**Replying to WhiteWinterStar:**

**Thanks! And yes, Faolin is not the same person that Arya used to love...**

**Replying to no name/same:**

**I'm not that shallow! I admit, ExA will happen eventually, but Arya won't go straight from Faolin to Eragon. You'll just have to wait and see how it happens...**

**Replying to Love it:**

**Read my explanation up above. As for ExA, I'm sorry if I am going too fast. It won't happen right away though. About Faolin changing: he's been tortured and imprisoned for two years. If that doesnt affect him, I dont know what will. **

**Replying to Cara Meirfert:**

**Don't worry, he'll escape the oath somehow:)**

**Replying to Nocturnel:**

**Thanks! I will definitely consider your idea about Faolin hitting Arya...**

**Replying to: guy who freaked out on Nocturnel:**

**Remember, Faolin has been tortured for two years. He has changed a little. Also, Arya will definitely not be running straight into Eragon's arms. Next time, please use a different pen name. It gets really confusing. **

**Replying to Draco Lucis:**

**Once again, thanks for the support!**

* * *

><p>Chapter 6<p>

Storm clouds began to brew over the city of Belatona. Just before dawn, a light rain began to fall on the area, drenching the exposed Varden. Thunder rumbled across the land, putting the many soldiers on edge. It was in these conditions that the Varden began its attack on the city.

Along with Arya and Blodhgarm, Eragon sat atop Saphira's back, ready to commence the stealth mission. In order to save dozens of lives, Nasuada had opted for a secret operation behind the walls, instead of a frontal attack upon the gates, which would inevitably lead to many casualties. It was similar to the strategy used in Feinster, except for one major exception: a dragon. Swooping low to the top of the wall, Saphira prepared to drop her precious cargo near the mechanism that controlled the gates. After they had dropped, she would fly to the other side of the gates, creating a diversion and allowing the three companions to continue on relatively unnoticed.

As soon as the dragon descended low enough, the passengers agilely dropped to the stone walkway below, rolling to decrease the force of impact. Immediately, they were back on their feet, running towards the building that held the mechanism. In the distance, they heard the roars of Saphira, as well as the terrified screams of dying men. Taking advantage of the diversion, they dispatched several confused soldiers, continuing on towards their destination. Soon, they reached their goal. With a single swipe of Brisingr, the two guards fell dead at their feet. Quickly, they entered the building and locked the door. With a nod, the three warriors began spinning the mechanism, slowly opening the gate. Simultaneously, the Varden began advancing towards the gate in anticipation of the mission's success. Several cries of alarm came from outside the door, as several soldiers realized what was happening. Within seconds, dozens of guards gathered outside the door, trying to break the lock that kept them out. "We do not have enough time!" exclaimed Arya, looking worriedly towards the shaking door.

A grin flashed across Eragon's face. "Then it looks like I'll have to buy us some," he said. Without another word, he rammed his shoulder into the thin wooden door with as much force as he could manage, sending the door flying ten feet outwards. The flying debris hit four soldiers, instantly killing them. Before the door had even landed, Eragon was upon the soldiers with a flaming sword in his hand. Slashing, lunging, diving: Eragon's instincts took control, guiding every move with deadly accuracy. Blocking a stroke with Brisingr, he swung his foot out, kicking the legs out beneath the soldier and sending him airborne. Before the soldier even landed, Eragon completed the kill with a downward stab through the heart. Looking up, he realized that no soldiers were left to oppose him.

A soft touch on his shoulder told him that Arya and Blodhgarm had finished raising the gate. Battle cried below signaled the advance of the Varden into the city. "You did well, Shadeslayer," purred Blodhgarm.

"Thank you. We must join the fighting below now," replied Eragon. Quickly, they descended down to the lower level, where fighting had broken out. Once again, instincts took over, as Eragon entered the battle. Overhead, Saphira picked soldiers off the walls, tossing them to their deaths on the stones below.

* * *

><p>Eragon could never fully remember many of his actions during the battle. A fine red mist hung in front of his eyes, as countless soldiers fell beneath his sword of fire. After two hours of fighting, however, Eragon was thrown back into reality. Down the road, a cry of anguish found its way to Eragon's ears. <em>Arya!<em> he thought, as he sprinted down the street to find the source of the cry. Within seconds, he found the wounded princess, next to Faolin, surrounded by no less than fifty soldiers. Crimson blood soaked her black clothes, seeping from a deep wound in her heart. "No!" he screamed, diving to her side. Desperately, he lashed out with his sword, killing several soldiers and scaring off the rest. With the danger eliminated, Eragon turned his attention to the dying elf at his side.

"Eragon..." she whispered as she saw him at her side. With a shallow breath, she closed her eyes.

"Waise heill!" screamed Eragon, in a last attempt to save her life. His palm glowed with light as the magic flowed from his gedwey ignasia. After several seconds, the glow subsided as the flow of magic stopped. "Arya, please don't leave!" he whispered into ear, begging her to open her eyes. After several moments, he breathing reappeared. Finally, her eyes opened, as they found the mahogany eyes of Eragon, and for the second time in as many minutes, she whispered his name.

Relieved, Eragon sat back and looked up, sighing. What he saw shocked him. On the other side of Arya knelt Faolin, glaring at him with a look of pure hatred on his face. As soon as Eragon met his gaze, Faolin turned his attention to Arya, and a look of compassion immediately replaced the anger that had just filled his features. Arya, still recovering, was ignorant of the silent communication between the two men, and did not notice the sudden change in emotions in Faolin. Rising, Eragon grabbed his sword, and prepared to return to the battle.

A soft voice stopped him in his tracks. "Thank you, Shadeslayer. If you had not come, I would be dead."

Eragon turned to face the elf that controlled his heart. "Guard yourself well, Arya svit-kona, for you may not be so fortunate next time." With a sigh, he walked away, unable to bear the torment any longer. With a battle cry, he ran back into the battle, raising Brisingr over his head.

* * *

><p>Finally, exhaustion began to take its toll after hours of fighting. Using the energy from Aren to soothe his aching limbs, he continued onward towards the keep. Suddenly, from the dark clouds above, a deafening roar exploded as a blood red dragon emerged. <em>Saphira!<em> he shouted mentally, trying to discern his dragon's location.

"Eragon!" came a booming voice, magically amplified, from the skies. "Come fight me, brother!" taunted Murtagh from Thorn's back. Diving down, the pair began to bathe the Varden's forces in red hot flames, forcing Eragon into action.

_I am here!_ Saphira finally replied. Climbing to the upper wall, he jumped off the ledge, landing on Saphira's back as she soared by.

_Blodhgarm! Arya!_ he shouted mentally, trying to locate the minds of the elven spellcasters. Only a single response returned.

_Eragon! We are under attack from an enemy group of magicians. The elves have scattered, and I do not know where they are. I will locate them, but you must face Murtagh alone until I can gather enough elves to aid you! Try to reach Glaedr. He can help!_ thought Arya. Panic surged through Eragon as he realized he would have to face his half-brother alone. Desperately, he dove into the golden Eldunari of Glaedr. However, he found only a solid wall composed of grief and pain. Receiving no response to his pleadings, Eragon withdrew, ready to face Murtagh.

A mocking voice greeted him as he and Saphira climbed into the sky. "Hello, brother. Will you come to Uru'baen, or must we fight again?" Saphira roared in response, and Murtagh scowled. "Very well. Fight we must."

The two dragons collided with the force of an earthquake, while Murtagh's mind slammed into his. Thorn's tail, he realized, was fine, healed by some dark magic of Galbatorix. The two dragons scratched at each other's bellies, inflicting only small wounds. Saphira twisted, managing to evade Thorn, while biting into the thin membrane of his wing. Thorn roared in pain, and the dragons kicked apart. Within seconds, the wound was healed as Murtagh used one of his many Eldunari. However, Eragon found himself unable to move as Murtagh cast a spell that held Eragon's lower body motionless. Knowing how many Eldunari Murtagh had in his possession, Eragon did not try to counter the spell, as it would only weaken him even further.

"How could you!" shouted Murtagh, surprising Eragon with the sudden change of topic. "You knew of Oromis and Glaedr, and yet you told us nothing! They could have helped us!"

"They could not have helped you more than I could have," replied Eragon calmly. "Only you can help yourself now."

Anger flashed across Murtagh's face. "I cannot! I have tried endless times, but I cannot! And because I cannot change, I must take you to Uru'baen."

"Why would I want to join you in hell?" mocked Eragon.

A smile flashed across Murtagh's mouth. "It would be better than your life now. No one except Saphira loves you. Not Garrow, who only cared for you out of duty. Not Brom, who only looked after you because he knew you were Morzan's son. And especially not Oromis and Glaedr, who viewed you only as students, never caring for you at all." Uncontrollable anger boiled up within Eragon, ready to explode. But Murtagh was not finished. "In Uru'baen, you would be treated like royalty. No longer would everyone reject you." A laugh escaped Murtagh's mouth as another thought came to him. "Even Arya cares nothing for you! She rejected you for Faolin!" Murtagh joked, still laughing.

Finally, Eragon could take no more. All of the anger boiled to a single word. "Kveykva!" he screamed, raising his sword above his head.

Time slowed down. An iron taste filled Eragon's mouth as sparks ran the length of Brisingr. Suddenly, a lightning bolt struck from the dark clouds above, hitting the tip of the sword. In a single movement, Eragon shoved the sword in the direction of Murtagh and Thorn, as two tendrils of lightning shot out, striking the Rider and dragon square in their chests. Thunder exploded across the sky as Murtagh was thrown free of Thorn, unconsciously hurtling towards the earth. His dragon, still stunned from the hit, went diving after him, trying to save his Rider. Just before Murtagh collided with the ground, he was caught by Thorn, who tried to slow down but was only partially successful. The pair went crashing into the ground below, skidding to a stop several yards away. Saphira and Eragon dove in pursuit, cutting through the driving rain, attempting to retrieve Eldunari from Thorn's saddle. Before they could reach the downed pair, Thorn recovered, leaping into the air with an unconscious Murtagh still in his claws, flying back to their master in Uru'baen.

* * *

><p>Darkness fell over the city as the day finally ended. Fighting still erupted all over the city as the Varden struggled to gain contol of the citizens. Galbatorix had hidden several thousand additional soldiers within the keep of the city, which caused the Varden endless trouble, and had still not been fully eliminated. Hundreds of feet above them flew Eragon and Saphira, surveying the carnage below and trying to discover how to end the fighting<em>. I know what I must do<em>, said Eragon suddenly as an idea sprang forth in his mind. _Take me to the top of the keep._

_What are you thinking, little one?_ asked Saphira.

"You will see," replied Eragon aloud.

Relenting, the dragon flew to the top of the domed keep, the product of countless hours of artisan labor. Once atop, Eragon dismounted, as Saphira flew around the circular building. He climbed to the top of the dome as a booming voice echoed across the city.

"Citizens of Belatona," said Eragon, his voice magically amplified so that it traveled to even the furthest corners of the citizens. Immediately, all fighting ceased as both sides tried to locate the source of the voice. "You have fought bravely. You have been forced to fight by the black king. I do not want to spill any more blood tonight. I fight for justice and freedom from tyranny. Join me, and your lives will be spared." All eyes turned in amazement to the voice in the sky, and many Belatona citizens dropped their weapons, unwilling to fight any longer. "Join me. I am Eragon Shadeslayer, last free dragon rider in Alagaesia!"

The sound of swords dropping to the ground rang throughout the city. Even those who did not want to surrender were forced to as they realized how many of their comrades had dropped their weapons. With cheers, the soldiers of the Varden began collecting the weapons and welcoming the new recruits into their ranks.

_You did well,_ thought Saphira. _I am proud of you. And I thought you were afraid of speaking to crowds!_ Eragon smiled as he surveyed the results of his speech.

The siege of Belatona was over. Dras-Leona was next.

* * *

><p><strong>I'm sure you guys are probably skeptical about the whole lightning thing. The idea behind it was that since there was already a storm over the city, Eragon could use it to his advantage. When he cast the spell, he moved a lot of electrons into Brisingr. Because of this, it became charged and attracted the lightning onto it. <strong>

**There it is! Once again, I apologize for the wait, I will try to be faster. And please, review!**


	7. Chapter 7

**2,000 hits! Wow, you guys are the best readers ever! And because of this special milestone, I am dedicating this chapter to... Draco Lucis, for his support and great reviews!**

**Sorry for the two day wait, but I am finally finished with the new chapter! It is shorter than the other chapters, so I apologize for that. However, this is one of my favorite chapters so far, because it is so emotionally jam packed. I am going to apologize in advance about a certain death in the chapter. All I can say is, it had to happen! But really, this is a real tear jerker :) Just kidding, but I really do hope it makes some of you fabulous readers cry. On second thought, whoever cries while reading it gets the next chapter dedicated to them! Anyways, after all the reviews about wanting Arya to see the jerky Faolin, I decided to put in a little Arya POV. As for the little song in the middle of the chapter, it is from page 558 of Eldest. I hope you guys like it. And as always, please review!**

Chapter 7

"Eragon! Eragon! Eragon!"

In every part of the city, the cry went up. Old and young, bond and free, it did not matter: thousands chanted a single name, the name of the man who had ended the battle and saved their lives: Eragon Shadeslayer.

As Eragon descended from the domed keep upon Saphira's back, the cries reached him. A blush found its way onto his cheeks as he dealt with the newfound attention. _I wish it would all stop_, mused Eragon as the dragon glided gently down upon the walls of the city.

_You are the one who drew the attention to yourself, little one,_ snorted Saphira, a small ring of smoke floating from her nostrils. Below them, a large crowd had gathered at the base of the walls, shouting their gratitude. To his surprise, several voiced asked Eragon to marry them, causing him to blush even further. With a small wave, Eragon turned away, intending to find Nasuada to explain his earlier actions.

_She will be angry that I acted without her permission_, contemplated Eragon, dreading the conversation that he would soon find himself in. Suddenly, while walking along the wall, he found his path blocked by a single individual.

"Shadeslayer," murmured the voice in a pained tone. Eragon recognized the figure as one of his elven guards. Furthermore, he was surprised that the individual did not greet him in the usual fashion of the elves. "You must come immediately," urged the elf in a hushed voice. "You must see it with your own eyes."

Panic ran through Eragon's body as he tried to determine the source of the elf's anguish. Several seconds passed until an idea finally formed in his mind. "Blodhgarm, where is Blodhgarm?" asked Eragon, realizing he had not heard from his bodyguard for several hours. He looked at the young elf before him, waiting for a response. However, the elf merely looked at the ground as a tear rolled down his cheek. "Where is Blodhgarm?" asked Eragon once more, his voice rising to a shout. "Where is he?"

Finally, in a voice barely louder than a whisper, he received his answer: "At the base of the keep." Wasting no time, Eragon whipped past the elf, sprinting to the keep, afraid of what he might find there. Within five minutes, he arrived at the stone base. Cold and dark, it was a formidable place, and only made the situation even more tense. Striding into the room, he saw a group of twelve elves standing in a circle, surrounding some unknown object. Behind him, he sensed Arya approaching. Seconds later, he felt her hand on his shoulder and her voice whisper into his ear softly.

"What has happened here?" she asked, also unsure of the situation. However, Eragon did not answer, but began slowly walking forward, fearful of what had transpired.

"What happened?" he asked the elves in a whisper. When they did not respond, he asked again. "What happened?" he screamed, but he already knew what had occurred. Slowly, the elves stepped back, opening the circle and allowing Eragon a glimpse at what lay on the floor.

On the stone floor, in a pool of blood, lay Blodhgarm. His eyes lay closed, unmoving, and Eragon knew that they would never open again. Desperately, Eragon's eyes scanned the body, trying to find why his friend, his protector, was dead. He found it.

In the place where his heart was located lay a gaping hole, extending all the way through his back. Next to the body lay a pike, covered in blood.

"No!" cried Eragon, angry that yet another person he knew had given his life attempting to overthrow Galbatorix. Around him, the elves began to sing, mourning the loss of their brother. Their clear voices floated through the air as tears streamed down Eragon's cheeks. For several minutes they sang of things past, of things lost. They sang of their regret, their grief, and their love. Eragon recognized parts of the music from a song he had heard in Ellesmera:

_Away, away, you shall fly away,__O'er the peaks and vales __To the lands beyond.  
><em>_Away, away, you shall fly away,  
><em>_And never return to me..._

Finally, the music subsided as their voices faded into the darkness that surrounded them. Bowing their heads, they turned to leave, ready to grieve alone.

"Wait," came a voice, halting them in their tracks. "Tell me how it happened," asked Eragon, wiping the tears from his cheeks. For several moments, there was no response, until a single fair elf stepped forward.

"After you opened the gates, Blodhgarm and the rest of us fought towards the keep. After several hours, we managed to break into it. Eleven of us ascended to try to find Lord Bradburn in the rooms above, while Blodhgarm and Faolin stayed below to guard the entrance," explained the elf, her voice shaking with grief. Eragon's entire body tensed as he heard her last sentence, and his eyes found Faolin standing amongst the elves. She continued. "While guarding the entrance, they were ambushed by a hundred soldiers who had hidden in a lower level. Faolin and Blodhgarm fought back to back, trying to fend off the mass of soldiers. In the end, there were just too many for Blodhgarm, as a pike stabbed him in the heart." The elf finished the story, barely able to choke out the last few words.

Anger began to boil in Eragon's blood. With disgust on his face, he turned over the body, examining the wound. His hands balled into a fist as he viewed the gaping hole. "This pike entered through his backside," muttered Eragon, turning to face the grieving elves. "You said that Blodhgarm and Faolin fought back to back. If that is true, then Blodhgarm is dead because Faolin failed to protect his backside."

"It can't be!" cried several of the elves. A look of horror spread across Faolin's face, but Eragon knew it was just an act. "Oh please! I did not mean for any of this to happen! If he died because of my failure..." Faolin cried, his voice trailin off into a sob. His body began to shake from grief, but when Eragon stared into his eyes, he saw no grief, only twisted, demented satisfaction.

"This was no accident!" yelled Eragon, furious at Faolin. The elves glared at him as they understood what he was insinuating. Arya grabbed his wrist and led him out the door, away from the mangled body of Blodhgarm.

"You are not in your right mind, Eragon. You need to rest," she murmured, turning to leave.

"Please, Arya, you must believe me!" pleaded Eragon, but she had already disappeared back into the keep. With a deep sigh, Eragon turned his back to the keep, letting his feet lead him deep into the night.

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><p>Arya lay on a cot, staring at the stone ceiling of her room in Belatona, unable to sleep. Thoughts of Blodhgarm filled her mind, flooding it with grief and anger. Only a few hours had elapsed since the siege of Belatona had ended and Blodhgarm had been slain. Next to her lay Faolin, sleeping blissfully in a deep slumber. Several hours remained before dawn. <em>It's always darkest just before the dawn<em>, mused Arya.

With a sigh, she arose from the bed and walked out of the room onto the open ledge outside. For many minutes, she stood there, gazing up at the stars, trying to fend off the grief that threatened to overcome her. _I wonder if he is up there_, she thought, and not for the first time, wished that elves did believe in a higher power. After a while, a warm arm surrounded her, pulling her into a close embrace.

"What are you doing out here?" asked Faolin, with weariness still in his eyes. "It has been a long day. Come inside." Too tired to resist, Arya allowed herself to be led back into the room. Very few furnishings decorated the room: only a cot, a desk, and a chair. Sighing, Arya dropped into the chair, still pondering Blodhgarm's death.

"Tell me how it happened," demanded Arya suddenly, breaking the silence. Faolin turned his head away from Arya, hiding his emotions from her. "Tell me how it happened," she repeated when he didn't respond.

"Please, Arya, the pain is still too near," he pleaded in a soft voice. Arya stood up and sat next to him on the bed, putting her arm around his shoulders.

"I know it hurts," she murmured, "but I must know what happened." In a flash, Faolin's face twisted in anger as he jumped up and faced Arya.

"Why?" he demanded. "Do you believe I am at fault as well, just like Eragon?" Shock registered on Arya's face at this sudden change in emotions.

"No, Faolin, I just... wanted to know..." she started, but was soon cut off by another angry tirade.

"Of course you believe Eragon! You always agree with him!" he growled. "I will teach you who to agree with." Suddenly, his hand tightened into a fist, and raised into the air, ready to strike.

"Faolin," Arya gasped desperately, as tears welled up in her eyes, still in shock about what was happening. Just as quickly as it had come, the anger disappeared, leaving Faolin standing upon the stone floor with a look of horror upon his face.

"I am so sorry," Faolin pleaded, tears streaming down his face as well. "I do not know what came over me," he explained. "Can you ever forgive me?" he asked her, pulling her into his arms and looking deep into her emerald eyes.

"Of course," she whispered, and he embraced her even tighter. This was not the last angry tirade she would see from Faolin, she knew. Finally, she began to drift into sleep, when she finally realized that Faolin had still not told her what had happened with Blodhgarm.

**Replying to Draco Lucis:  
><strong>**I thought Thorn was a nameslave too, along with Murtagh. I bet that Galbatorix has him under oath too. But you could always be right, only Book 4 will tell!**

**Replying to Eragontheone:  
><strong>**Yes, Arya will eventually see how much Eragon cares about her happiness. About Eragon's feelings about being unloved, that will have to wait until next chapter:)**

**Replying to Unique Fantasiser:  
><strong>**Those are some creative ideas! I will definitely think about them!**

**Replying to Tyson:  
><strong>**Remember, he was in prison for like five times as long as Arya.**

**Replying to .LOL:  
><strong>**Did Arya find enough out about the real Faolin? Let me know!  
><strong>***hands clasped with a desperate look on my face**

**Replying to Korkman2:  
><strong>**Wow! Thanks for the great compliments! Hope you liked the chapter!**

**Replying to pineapplegrl77:  
><strong>**Glad you liked it! The reason Faolin didn't heal her was because he was still fighting off all of the attacking soldiers. And yes, he still cares for her.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey, thanks for all the reviews! Here's the new chapter. All of you ExA fans out there, this should cheer you up a little bit. I tried my best with the Eragon/Arya scene, but I know that I can't please everyone. Please, let me know what you think about the scene at the end! Please review!**

* * *

><p>Chapter 8<p>

_We have a traitor in our midst_, thought Eragon. Laying on the floor, huddled next to Saphira, he stared at the stars above, as a wave of emotions rolled through him. Grief, anger, frustration, he had trouble distinguishing one from another. Grief at Blodhgarm's death, anger at Faolin for everything he had done, and frustration with himself for his inability to convince others about Faolin's true nature. More than anything, he felt heartbreak, a deep within his chest. It was now an ever present feeling, as he could never truly forget Arya, even for an instant.

_How can I reveal the truth?_ he desperately asked himself, frantically searching his mind for any possible solution. However, nothing came to mind, bringing a new wave of emotions smashing into his soul. His hands began to tremble as the emotions started to take control of his actions.

_Calm, little one_, came the soothing voice of Saphira into his mind. _There is nothing you can do until morning_, she admonished. _Until then, you must sleep. Forget the horrors of today, and look forward to tomorrow._ With Saphira's presence to calm him, Eragon slipped into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

><p><em>Eragon opened his eyes. He was on his farm in Carvahall. Across the field, he saw Garrow, hoeing beets with sweat dripping down his face. Joy blossomed within his chest as he saw his uncle alive and well. Mustering his courage, he yelled to Garrow, desperate to converse with him. However, Garrow did not seem to hear him. Running across the field, he yelled louder, but still received no response. Finally, he reached his uncle and shook his shoulder. To his horror, Garrow still did not notice his nephew standing next to him. Casting his eyes about, Eragon saw a cloud of dust rise upon the road leading from Carvahall. Using his elven vision, he saw two figures, clad in black, sprinting towards the farm. Fear surged through him as he realized who they were. <em>

"_Run, uncle!" screamed Eragon, to no avail. The two cloaked figures arrived at the farm and walked up to Garrow. _

"_Where isssss the boy?" they hissed._

"_I do not know!" responded Garrow. Without warning, one of the figures struck Garrow across the face with a staff. "I do not know what you are talking about!" insisted Garrow, sprawled across the ground. Hissing, the two figures looked at each other and raised their weapons in unison. Suddenly, they began to strike Garrow, over and over, until finally he slipped into unconsciousness. _

_One of the figures took a flask from his cloak. Without hesitation, he poured the contained liquid onto the body of Garrow, where it began to bubble upon the skin. _

"_No!" screamed Eragon, unable to save his uncle from the seithr oil that now ate at his body._

Eragon awoke, still screaming and clutching at the air. Sweat drenched his clothes, and his breathing was ragged and heavy. _Only a dream_, he thought to himself, as he closed his eyes once more and entered the land of dreams once more.

* * *

><p>Sunlight beamed down upon Belatona, waking a Rider from his slumber. Sitting up, he gazed outwards upon the horizon, still groggy and forgetful. For a moment, he was peaceful, until he remembered the previous day. Anger surged through him once again, along with a desire for revenge. Taking a deep breath, he buried his emotions behind a mask of indifference. He rose and awoke Saphira, still sleeping next to him. Together, they sat and watched the sun rise, bathing the world in a brilliant gold light.<p>

Finally, Eragon stirred from his trance, and said to Saphira, _We must find Nasuada. She needs to know of yesterday's events_. Lithe as an elf, Eragon sprung onto her back as she bounded into the air. Within a minute, they had arrived at the top of the keep, the new command center. Eragon quickly dismounted and strode to the door, which was guarded by two Nighthawks. Recognizing the Rider, they parted, allowing Eragon to step through the doorway.

In the room, huddled over a table, stood Nasuada and Orrin, discussing something in hushed tones. Eragon gave a cough, alerting the leaders to his presence. They turned and faced the Rider, extreme weariness apparent upon their faces. "My lady, king, I have come to discuss yesterday's events, and to seek your counsel," spoke Eragon.

"It's about time," grumbled Orrin, obviously annoyed with Eragon.

"Please, Eragon, sit down," asked Nasuada, ignoring Orrin's rudeness. Eragon immediately sat down in an austere wood chair, waiting for further instruction. "I already know everything that has happened to you," explained Nasuada. "Firstly, I would like to discuss your little speech on top of the dome last night." Eragon's stomach started to churn as he prepared himself for the verbal beating he was about to receive.

"Yes, let's talk about that," grumbled Orrin again. "Who gave you the right to recruit all these new soldiers?" questioned Orrin. "You acted without permission, usurping Nasuada's and my power. It is my opinion that you should be punished for what you did," concluded Orrin.

"Aye," agreed Nasuada. "You acted without our permission." Eragon bowed his head, waiting for his punishment. "But I'm glad you did," continued Nasuada with a small smile on her face. Shock covered Eragon's face as Nasuada said these words. "Do you wish to know why? Very well, I will tell you."

"Because of your actions, hundreds of lives on both sides were spared. Furthermore, we gained many new soldiers, which can aid us in capturing Uru'baen. Last, but not least, you have shown the people that the Varden only seeks for freedom and justice, and we are not the savages that Galbatorix portrays us as," explained Nasuada, folding her hand across her lap. "As such, I have decided to not punish your actions, as that would only create tension and anger between us."

Eragon looked over at Orrin, and was amused to see his face turn beet red as Nasuada rejected his opinion. Clearing his throat, he began to speak. "Although I do not agree with your decisions, I will respect it and leave the matter alone," he concluded wisely.

"There is more," said Eragon in a soft voice. "Were you informed of Blodhgarm's death?" he asked.

"Yes, Arya told me last night. And before you say anything else, she also explained your accusations," responded Nasuada in a strong voice. "Once again, I must tell you this: I cannot punish Faolin for something that we cannot prove he did. If we did, it would irreparably harm relations with the elves and threaten our chances of success. Please, stop this feud you have with him. If we are to succeed, we must be united." Nasuada finished her lecture and looked to Orrin. "Do you have anything to add, King?" she asked.

"No, you have summed it up perfectly," responded Orrin.

"Very well. Eragon, you may have the next two days to rest and recover from the battle. On the third day, report here at daybreak. I have things to discuss with you," finished Nasuada, and she waved him out of the tent. Sighing, Eragon trudged out of the tent, and clambered onto Saphira. They promptly flew back to Eragon's tent, where he found an unexpected visitor outside.

"Hello, Glenwing, what brings you here today?" asked Eragon after using the traditional elvish greetings. As they stepped into the tent, he felt a pang of guilt as he realized that he had totally forgotten about the elf after Faolin's rescue. Even though it had been several weeks since Glenwing had arrived, he was still thin and sickly. The skin stretched tight over his face, and scars crisscrossed his body.

"I came to see if the rumors about Blodhgarm are true," explained the elf. "The other elves are too distraught to give me a proper answer."

"I am afraid it is true. Blodhgarm is dead," confirmed Eragon, as a knot clenched in his stomach. "I am sorry."

"As am I, Shadeslayer. He was a close friend, and will be sorely missed," said the elf with grief etched on his face.

From behind the pair, somebody coughed at the entrance of the tent, alerting the two to her presence. Eragon had felt her approach several seconds earlier, but had remained silent. "Greetings, Arya," he spoke coldly without turning around. Realizing what was happening, Glenwing courteously excused himself.

"Excuse me, Shadeslayers, but I have urgent business that I must attend to. Until next time," he said, gracefully slipping out of the tent and leaving Eragon and Arya alone.

"How do you fare after last night?" asked the raven-haired elf. The aroma of crushed pinecones almost overwhelmed Eragon, but he managed to continue.

"I am better, but I doubt I will ever be the same again," responded Eragon in a soft voice that showed the emotions rolling within him. "I am just angry that he had to die in the way he did," he said.

Anger flashed across Arya's face. "Why do you continue to accuse Faolin of something he didn't do?" she exclaimed. "Is it out of spite, or is it out of jealousy?" she demanded. "Are you so selfish as to begrudge our happiness together?"

"You go too far," growled Eragon. "You forget what I sacrificed in order to Faolin, for you! Did I do that out of jealousy too?" mocked Eragon. "No, I did it so that you could be happy once more. However, Faolin is not the same person you once knew, Arya; he is changed."

"Then tell me why. What has he done to offend you?" demanded Arya.

"I cannot tell you!" bellowed Eragon, unable to contain his frustration.

"Just as I thought. Goodbye, Eragon," she said curtly, regaining her emotionless mask, and whipped out of the tent.

Eragon's mind was reeling. She needed to know what had happened, but he could not circumvent his oaths. He thought about how angry she had been. The only time he had seen her so angry was when she had smashed his fairth...

"Arya, wait!" yelled Eragon, running outside. Fortunately, Arya was still in sight. He ran to her, and softly grabbed her hand. She wheeled around, a furious glare on her face. "Please, Arya, I think I can explain. Just give me a chance," he said quietly.

Arya's features softened, and to his surprise, she agreed. "Only one chance," she added, and followed Eragon back to the tent.

Once inside, Eragon sat on his cot, facing Arya, who stood standing with her arms crossed across her chest. "As I said before, I cannot tell you what he has done," he said. Ignoring her protests, he continued. "But I believe I can show you." Grabbing a slate from underneath the cot, he uttered several words under his breath.

Instantly, the blank surface of the slate began to form into a recognizable image. The colors arranged themselves so it depicted a figure, standing in a stream. A look of pure hatred darkened his face, and in his hand he held an elvish blade, pointed at a throat. It was Faolin.

A gasp escaped Arya's lips, and shock burst through her mask. "Did he attack you?" she asked with obvious concern.

"As I said before, I physically cannot tell you," Eragon responded, still watching Arya's reaction. Her emerald eyes glistened with tears that she held back, much to Eragon's surprise.

"He did attack you!" exclaimed Arya, finally beginning to comprehend why Eragon disliked Faolin. "But why?" she asked herself. Several minutes passed as she pondered her question.

Finally, Eragon broke the silence. "Do you remember what happened between us after the war council in Feinster?" he asked. He was surprised he was able to say this, but he realized that he was not revealing anything that Faolin had done, but was merely bringing up an old memory.

Arya bit her lip as she thought back to the moments outside Feinster's keep. "I thanked you for saving Faolin, and then I hugged you..." Arya's voice trailed off as she realized why Faolin had attacked Eragon. "He was jealous, so he decided to attack you, didn't he!" she said. "Then, he forced you to swear an oath to never tell anyone, so that I would never know!" Exhausted, Arya sat down onto the cot next to Eragon, overcome by the momentous discoveries she had just unearthed.

Arya stared into the warm, chocolate eyes of Eragon, and found tears escaping from her own eyes. "I am so sorry, Eragon. I forgot how much you have sacrificed for me. I have betrayed your trust. Can you ever forgive me?" she asked him.

Eragon smiled in return. "I already have." Slowly, Arya leaned into Eragon and wrapped her arms around his torso. In response, Eragon gently wiped a tear from her face and placed an arm on her shoulders. "I am sorry that this had to happen to you," he whispered into her ear.

With a sigh, Arya pulled away from Eragon and walked towards the exit.

"Where are you going?" inquired Eragon as he watched her walk away.

"I am going to speak with Faolin."

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><p><strong>Replying to WhiteWinterStar:<br>****To be honest, I totally forgot about Glenwing until your review! But I put him in this chapter, so hopefully that makes up for it a little.**

**Replying to :  
><strong>**I think Arya finally knows that Faolin is Trouble!**

**Replying to botr:  
><strong>**I'll try! There's more ExA to come!**

**Replying to Draco Lucis:  
><strong>**I think Arya now understands Faolin…**

**Replying to .LOL:  
><strong>**And now she knows Faolin is an even bigger jerk! And was that enough ExA for you? *extremely hopeful face**

**Replying to BokitoProof:  
><strong>**Thanks for the support!**

**Replying to Eragontheone:  
><strong>**Thanks! That really means a lot to me! I'll try to keep it up!**

**Replying to RoK:  
><strong>**I didn't want Blodhgarm to go either :( And please update your Inheritance story soon!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9 is up! Thanks to all the reviewers who reviewed the last chapter. This chapter is a little short, but it has a lot of content in it, and I didn't want to cram anymore in. Honestly, this chapter has more drama than an entire episode of Gossip Girl (not that I necessarily watch Gossip Girl, I'm just saying). As far as the rest of the story is playing out, I am playing on two or three more chapters. After that, I have not decided what I am going to write about. If you have any suggestions, please let me know! Anyways, hope you like the chapter, and as always, please review!**

**Replying to Eragontheone:  
><strong>**She realizes his feelings for her, but I think she was too shocked about Faolin to really care about it at the moment.**

**Replying to Awesome Much .LOL:  
><strong>**Well, keep grinning like a maniac, because there's much more ExA to come!**

**Replying to Vires Animus Sapientia:  
><strong>**Oh, I have something better in mind for Faolin than just exiling him :)**

**Replying to RoK:  
><strong>**Did you like any of those ideas? After I gave you my last idea, I was reading Light of a Spark and he already had that name! I was totally bummed :( In all honesty though, Eridor is still a pretty good name if you choose to use that.**

**Replying to Princess Arya:  
><strong>**What? What about alarms?**

**Replying to Unique Fantasiser:  
><strong>**Now THAT would be drama!**

**Replying to BlueNoise:  
><strong>**Good prediction! You will see about that in this chapter.**

**Replying to BokitoProof:  
><strong>**Thanks!**

Chapter 9

Faolin sat down, staring into the mirror before him. He was in the tent that he and Arya shared, which was, coincidentally, on the opposite side of the city from Eragon's tent. A scowl sprawled across his face as he continued to look into the glass. Suddenly, he sensed a figure approaching the tent. Murmuring a few words, he stowed the mirror underneath his cot as quickly as he could, and turned to face the entrance.

Standing at the entrance, arms folded across her chest, was Arya. Dressed in her customary black leather outfit that pleased Faolin so much, she was an attractive sight. Several strands if raven black hair hung in front of her emerald eyes, which glared accusingly at Faolin.

"Hello, princess," said Faolin lightly, still staring at her. "Where have you been?" However, Arya gave no reason that she had even heard his greetings. Instead, she stood, unmoving, staring at Faolin. To him, it seemed as if her eyes drilled holes straight to his soul, piercing even his darkest secrets.

"What is troubling you, my love?" Faolin asked, trying to instill as much genuineness as he could into his voice. Once again, he received no response. He was unsettled by her strange behavior. For several minutes, she stood there, gazing at him, refusing to look away. Finally, after an eternity, she spoke.

"Do you believe that I love you?" she asked firmly, her voice betraying none of the emotions she was battling at the moment. The question caught Faolin off guard.

"What? Of course you love me," he responded in an uncertain voice. "What makes you ask such a question?" he inquired, a look of confusion on his face.

"Then are you so insecure as to believe that I would endanger our love?" she asked in an angry voice. Dread began to creep through Faolin' mind as he realized where the conversation was headed.

"I don't know what you are speaking of," replied Faolin, attempting to feign ignorance.

"Do not lie to me!" she yelled suddenly, betraying the anger that boiled just beneath her collected mask. "I am weary of your deception. Do not try to be ignorant of what I speak of; you know exactly why I am angry. So, I will ask one more time: do you believe that I would put our love in jeopardy?" she asked, her voice shaking with fury.

Faolin sighed before responding. "Arya, I trust you with my entire being. You would never risk our relationship," he concluded.

"Then answer me this: why would you threaten the life of one of my closest friends, not to mention the Varden's only hope, if you trust me with your entire being?" she demanded, stepping towards him and looking him in the eyes.

"How do you know of this?" gasped Faolin in disbelief. His mind reeled, as he tried to discover how Eragon had broken the oaths he had taken.

"What? Did you believe that Eragon would never find a way to circumvent the oaths you forced him to take?" Arya said in an angry, yet mocking tone. Faolin stood up and began pacing the room, but could not escape the deathly stare of Arya. "Answer me!" she said again.

"Very well. You wish to know why I threatened Eragon?" asked Faolin. "For two years, I lay in a dark cell in the black city, never expecting to ever see the light of day again. Every waking thought was of you: if you had escaped the Shade, if you were safe, if you still thought of me. You were the only reason that I stayed alive, my only light in that dark place. All in hopes of seeing you once again, of seeing your emerald eyes once more, of holding you in my arms. For two years, I hoped and waited, until finally I was saved from my prison." As Faolin gazed upon Arya, he saw her eyes glisten with tears that threatened to fall.

"When I was reunited with you, it seemed that everything was right in the world. I believed that everything would be the same as before, that you would be the same. And then, _he_ came." A look of disgust filled Faolin's face as he continued. "I saw how you looked at him, and how he looked at you. After all that I had endured, he believed that he could just steal you from under my eyes, as if it was his privilege, as if it was his right.."

"So, I decided to teach him a lesson. I taught him that he cannot have whatever he wants. I taught him that you are mine, and nothing will ever change that," Faolin concluded, a wicked smile upon his face.

A resounding slap filled the confines of the small tent. Faolin bent over, clutching his face, groaning from the hit Arya had just dealt. "How dare you!" she growled. "He saved your life, for our happiness, and this is how you repay him!" she said angrily. "He was right: you are not the same person," she whispered, sitting down on the cot.

"I will not apologize for my actions. I do not regret them," said Faolin defiantly. "I did what I did in order to keep us together!" he explained.

Arya stared at him with sadness in her eyes, a stark contrast to the anger she had exhibited only a few moments earlier. "Then it has had the opposite effect," she whispered. Faolin looked shocked and began to protest, but was cut off by Arya. "Our relationship cannot continue. We are finished," she said, and then whispered, "I am sorry."

She turned to the door and began to leave, but was stopped by Faolin's desperate words. "What about the promises we made each other? We said that we would always be together!" he cried out. Tears streamed down Arya's face as she turned to face him.

"You are not the same man that made those oaths so many years ago. And so, I release you from your vows." With that, she ran out of the tent, eyes blurring her vision, desperate to escape.

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><p>Arya ran until she felt her legs could go no further. Looking around, she found she was in a secluded grove of trees, some miles away from Belatona. Tears still clung to her face as she sat down upon the bed of pine needles beneath her. Short, ragged breaths filled her lungs as she tried to calm herself, to no avail. She could not believe what she had just done.<p>

Faolin, her Faolin, gone! Looking back, she wondered if she had made the right choice, or had she falsely acted upon her impulses? These two conflicting ideas waged a war within her mind, but neither side prevailed. For near an hour, she sat there, still confused about if she had done the right thing. Above her, she heard the sound of wings in the afternoon air. Looking up, she saw a flash of blue as Saphira dove past the clearing. Circling back, she landed in the clearing where Arya now sat.

_Little one, what is wrong?_ the sapphire dragon asked in her mind. Too distraught to form words, Arya merely relayed a memory of her encounter with Faolin. _I am so sorry, Emerald Eyes,_ soothed Saphira, trying to comfort the grieving elf.

Several minutes of silence passed between the pair until Saphira finally asked, _Would you like me to bring Eragon here? I am sure he could help-_

"NO!" declared Arya, surprising the dragon with her certainty. "Eragon is the last person that I would like to see right now," she said, staring at Saphira. Sensing her anger, the dragon decided to not pursue the topic any further, even though she had a good idea as to why the elf did not want to face him.

More silence enveloped the pair until Arya spoke up. "Did I make the right choice, Saphira?" she asked in an innocent voice, desperate for a reassuring answer.

_I am not you, little one_, said Saphira. _Only you know what lies in your heart. However, I will ask you this: were you happy around Faolin?_

Arya shifted uncomfortably on the ground as she considered the dragon's question. Finally, after several moments of deliberation, she responded. "No," she said weakly, and it seemed that a weight had been lifted from her chest.

_Then you made the right decision. He only deserves to be with you if he makes you happy_, advised Saphira, blowing a puff of smoke from her nostrils.

"Thank you, Saphira. You have helped me to sort through my feelings, and for that, I am grateful," thanked the elf.

* * *

><p>Eragon walked along the street, lost in his thoughts. He had finally been able to show Arya who Faolin really was. A burden seemed to be lifted from his shoulders, and he was happy for the first time in weeks. However, at the same time, he was depressed. He knew that Arya would most likely separate from Faolin. While the prospect cheered him up, Eragon hated to see Arya in any amount of pain.<p>

Suddenly, a voice jolted Eragon from his waking dreams. Straining to hear the sound, he realized that the voice belonged to Faolin, in a run down shack some meters away from him. Many people walked back and forth in front of the building, but only Eragon's elven hearing could discern Faolin's voice.

"Yes, I am sorry for my actions," said the elf apologetically.

Another voice spoke suddenly, and Eragon realized that Faolin was scrying somebody. "Because of your insolent behavior, our entire operation has been jeopardized!" growled the voice. An alarm went off within Eragon's mind as he realized he had heard that voice somewhere. However, he could not remember who it belonged to.

"I promise, my king, I will not fail you this time," pleaded the elf. With a shock, Eragon realized who Faolin was conversing with: King Galbatorix. He also realized that Faolin must have forgotten to cast a spell that prevented eavesdropping. Anger began to build within him as he discovered that Faolin was a traitor.

"For your sake, I hope you don't," responded the king coldly. "You know what must be done. Do not fail me again." The conversation ended as Galbatorix ended the spell. Eragon realized this and ran down the street, desperate to find Nasuada.

_Faolin is a traitor!_


	10. Chapter 10

**Are you ready for the most epic chapter ever? Because here it is! Seriously, this thing is the most epic chapter I have ever written. I still can't wrap my mind around it, and I was the one who wrote it! Hopefully you guys like it just as much as me. Thanks to all the reviewers from last chapter. I'm sorry if Eragon seems a little OOC, but I wanted to make him look as epic as possible. As for Eragon's plan at then end, let's just say he wanted to make an example of Faolin:) I hope you like the chapter, and as always, please freakin review!  
><strong>

**Replying to Awesome. Much. Lol:  
><strong>**I am pretty awesome, aren't I? Just kidding, you're awesome too (mostly because it's part of your username)  
><strong>

**Replying to Korkman2:  
><strong>**Nah, I'm not planning on killing her.**

**Replying to Draco Lucis:  
><strong>**That is my whole goal in writing: to make people's heads hurt! But I'm pretty sure you predicted what's going to happen in chapter 10 from your first review, if you remember that at all.**

**Replying to SimplySupreme:  
><strong>**Eragon might be a little OOC in this chapter. I apologize for that, but I just wanted to make the chapter as epic as possible. I will definitely try to make Arya's personality better in the next couple chapters, as we will be seeing a lot more of her.**

**Replying to Eragontheone:  
><strong>**If you liked chapter 9, you are going to love chapter 10. And thanks for the compliments!**

**Replying to pineapplegrl77:  
><strong>**I think I mentioned in there that he forgot to cast the spells that prevent eavesdropping**

**Replying to Vires Animus Sapientia:  
><strong>**Is this torture enough for you?**

**Replying to :  
><strong>**As you will see in this chapter, Faolin is NOT a nameslave...**

**Replying to BlueNoise:  
><strong>**You will see about Glenwing in this chapter**

**Replying to WhiteWinterStar:  
><strong>**And he has more coming his way!**

Chapter 10

Eragon ran through the streets like a madman. Red, the color of blood, tinged the outside of his vision and his heart beat rapidly, as a result of the adrenaline pumping through his veins. He was so angry that he did not notice any of the people that called out his name as he passed by them. Shouts of "Argetlam!" and "Shadeslayer!" went unnoticed by the young Rider as he tore through the street like a whirlwind. So fast was his flight that to onlookers, it did not appear that Eragon's feet even touched the cobblestone causeway below.

Only one thing mattered to Eragon at the moment, and he was intent on accomplishing it. Before long, the Rider had reached the ring of buildings surrounding the beautiful keep of Belatona. With deep breaths, he continued onwards towards his destination. Finally, he found it: a small stone room with a sturdy wooden door. Not hesitating in the slightest, Eragon rammed his shoulder into the oak door, sending it flying backwards into the enclosed room. Splinters exploded across the room as the door was crushed against the opposite wall.

Sitting at a desk, looking genuinely shocked, was Glenwing. Candles lit the meager room as the elf poured over scrolls and books. Wasting no time, Eragon grabbed the frail elf and threw him up against the wall, holding him in place. Milliseconds later, the elf found a shining blue blade pointed at his throat. "What is the meaning of this, Eragon?" croaked Glenwing, who kept glancing down nervously at the blade.

"How did you escape?" Eragon growled in response. Seeing the confusion on Glenwing's face, he repeated, "How did you escape from Galbatorix?"

"What does this have to do with anything?" asked Glenwing.

"Answer the question!" Eragon barked.

"Very well, I will tell you. Remove Brisingr from my throat and let me sit down. I can see something traumatic has happened to you very recently, so I will excuse your violent and reckless behavior just now." Reluctantly, Eragon lowered the sword and allowed Glenwing to sit down on his bed.

"I was held captive in Uru'baen for nearly two years. During those two years, not a day went by that I was not tortured or beaten by my jailers. It was a living nightmare. I could not escape: I was too weak, and the jailers gave me a drug daily that prevented me from using magic." Glenwing spoke dispassionately, as if describing the fate of some unknown stranger. He continued. "One day, however, my jailers forgot to mix the drug into my food. This allowed me to regain my strength somewhat, and for the next few days, I grew even stronger as I was able to hide the spiked food. Finally, the time for my escape came."

"With my magical ability restored, I unlocked the door to my cell and snuck down the corridor. I encountered two guards, but I slew them with one of the twelve words of death. Continuing onward, I met no further resistance until the entrance to the citadel, where I put the guards to sleep. Then, I crept out and slept in an abandoned house. The very next day, I walked out the gates unseen and ran all the way to Feinster," finished Glenwing. "It almost seemed..."

"Too easy?" pondered Eragon. "Maybe it was supposed to be easy," he said under his breath.

"What is that supposed to mean?" asked Glenwing with a complexed look on his face.

"What if you were supposed to escape, so that you could tell us about Faolin and that I could rescue him?" questioned Eragon. "What if I played right into Galbatorix's hands?"

A look of understanding crossed Glenwing's face. "This is about Faolin, isn't it? What has he done now?"

Eragon did not respond for several seconds. Finally, he spoke up, "He has betrayed the Varden to the king."

"I wondered..." said the elf mysteriously, prompting a questioning look from Eragon. Clarifying his thought, he said, "I passed every single cell in that prison during my escape. Faolin was not in a single one."

Eragon's blood began to boil as he realized he had risked his life to save a miserable traitor. "But when I rescued him, he had cuts all over his body!" he countered, trying to unravel the mystery.

Glenwing's reply was not long in coming. "He may have had shallow, and recent, cuts, but did you notice any scars on his body? Any signs of prolonged torture, other than the cuts?"

This question caught Eragon off guard, and he thought about it carefully. "Now that I think about it, he didn't have any scars at all!" exclaimed Eragon, jumping to his feet. "I still must ask you, though: are you a traitor too?"

"Galbatorix has no power over me, and I have not, nor will I ever betray the Varden," promised Glenwing in the Ancient Language, quelling Eragon's suspicions. "I believe that Lady Nasuada must be informed," he added.

"Oh yes," remembered Eragon, turning towards the exit. "I apologize about the door," he said as he strode out of the room and ran towards the command center.

* * *

><p>Eragon marched into the room, not bothering to receive the Nighthawks' permission. Fortunately, they realized his anger and decided to not press the issue. As Eragon entered the room, he looked around and saw Nasuada peering into a mirror on her desk. In the mirror, he glimpsed an elf with striking resemblance to Arya: Queen Islanzadi.<p>

"Eragon!" Nasuada exclaimed. "Did it ever occur to you to knock on the door before barging in uninvited?" Her voice faltered as she viewed the wrathful expression on Eragon's face. "What is wrong with you?" she inquired.

"I must speak with you two," replied Eragon, his voice directed towards the Queen in the mirror as well. "It is absolutely urgent."

Wisely, both leaders agreed, and Eragon recounted what he had overheard Faolin say. He concluded by simply saying, "He is a traitor." Both leaders were visibly shaken by the unexpected revelation.

"This cannot be. You must be mistaken," accused Islanzadi. Without pause, Eragon repeated his story in the Ancient Language, dispelling any doubts that the elven queen may have had. A mixture of horror, shock, and angered appeared on her face. "This cannot go unpunished," Islanzadi declared. "Was his mind not searched?" she demanded.

"It was searched by Blodhgarm. He obviously saw too much, but did not understand what he saw, because now he is dead," said Eragon angrily.

"What are we going to do?" thought Nasuada aloud.

Eragon responded immediately, with a look of cold, incalculable hate apparent upon his face. "With your permissions, I have a plan..."

* * *

><p>"People of the Varden," boomed Nasuada's voice. She stood on the outer wall of Belatona, overlooking the massive courtyard below. Thousands of individuals crammed into the courtyard, eager to hear what their leader had to say. "We have won a great victory!" she yelled to the crowd. A wall of noise exploded from it as everyone cheered for their recent victory in the siege of Belatona. The ruckus ensued for several minutes before the noise quieted down enough for Nasuada to continue. "But there are many more victories in the future for us!" she said to more cheers. "On to Dras-Leona!" she finished, as the noise climbed to its climax.<p>

Suddenly, a winged dragon flew directly over the crowd, her shadow bathing the courtyard in darkness. Whispers broke out among the crowd immediately as they tried to figure out what was happening. Without warning, Saphira turned around, flying over the courtyard again. This time, a figure slipped off of her back, plummeting 50 feet to the stone below. As he collided with the ground, a cloud of dust exploded outwards, hiding the figure from the view of the crowd. Isolated screams began to erupt, and the crowd edged backwards, leaving a circle in the center of the courtyard.

Slowly, the dust began to clear, and the crowd saw Eragon on one knee. His head was bowed, but every single person in the crowd could sense his anger.

"Faolin," he whispered softly. Somehow, the whisper carried throughout the city so that every single citizen heard it perfectly clear. Silence pervaded the courtyard, and was so oppressive that it seemed to bear down upon every single person.

After several moments, the crowd shifted, revealing Faolin himself. He strode into the circle with an air of confidence around him and an elven sword strapped to his belt. Only then did Eragon raise his head, revealing the fire that raged within his brown eyes.

"Why have you called me here?" called Faolin, breaking the icy silence.

"I have called you here so that you may pay for the crimes you have committed against the Varden," called Eragon. Murmurs rippled through the congregation as they heard the accusation. But Eragon was not finished. "You have acted as a spy for Galbatorix. You have betrayed the Varden, and so, I name you a traitor!" he shouted. "You must pay for your crimes."

Faolin laughed aloud, a cold laugh that struck fear into the heart of every person present. "You are under the impression that I will willingly surrender to the great Shadeslayer!" he mocked. "I'm afraid you are mistaken!"

Suddenly, he pulled out his sword with the speed of lightning, and thrust the sword at Eragon's heart. Even with his elven speed, Eragon only evaded the attack by mere millimeters; the sword even grazed his tunic as he threw himself out of the way. Less than a second later, he was back on his feet, with Brisingr in his hand.

Faolin's head turned towards the elves. "If any of you try to interfere, they will all die!" he exclaimed, gesturing towards the thousands of people now surrounding them. Rapidly, Faolin muttered a single word, and flames leapt up around the crowd, preventing their escape. Then, he turned his attention back to Eragon.

The two swords clashed with the fury of a hurricane. Blows rained down upon each fighter, but no strikes could sneak past the skilled defenses of the other. Each fighter was so focused in the fight that they paid no attention to the crowd around them. If Eragon had, he might have heard the screams of Arya, pleading with them to stop. None from the crowd dared to intervene, even the elves, for fear of being killed in the epic clash now underway.

To those present, it was the greatest fight ever recorded. Eragon fought with such skill and tenacity that even he did not know he possessed. Finally, the two fighters were thrown backwards by the force of their own blows. Each landed on their feet several feet away. "Why did you do it?" asked Eragon suddenly, before the fight could resume.

Faolin's face hardened into a stone cold expression. "You know nothing of what I endured for those two years," he said. "You act like I had a choice in the matter." Seeing the confusion on Eragon's face, he clarified. "No, I am not a nameslave, like your insolent brother," he mocked.

"No, I betrayed the Varden for a single reason: her." His hand raised and clenched into a fist, leaving only a single finger pointing behind Eragon. He turned around, following the still pointing finger, and found himself staring into the emerald eyes of Arya. "Everything I did, I did so that we could be together again. Swearing oath to the king was a small price to pay to see her face again."

Eragon's stomach churned at this revelation, and he saw tears running down Arya's cheeks. "But you tore that all away from me!" Faolin yelled suddenly. "She was all I had, but you had to take her from me. For that you must pay!" Once again, Faolin charged Eragon, but this time he was ready.

"Brisingr!" he cried, and blue flames ran the length of his sword. With all of his might, he swung his sword to meet Faolin's charge. Time slowed down as the two swords collided. Immediately, the steel sword of Faolin exploded into a thousand tiny pieces of metal, which fell harmlessly at his feet. Brisingr continued onwards, embedding itself in the flesh of Faolin's upper arm. Faolin cried out in pain and fell to the ground.

"Kill me," he choked, staring at Eragon who stood above him. "Do it!" In response, Eragon lifted his sword with both hands, preparing to deliver the fatal blow. He was oblivious to all else, even the desperate screams of Arya, who was held back by five of the elven spellcasters.

Finally, Eragon's arms plunged downwards, with the authority of fate itself. Faolin closed his eyes, waiting for his life to finally end. But the end did not come.

He opened his eyes to find Brisingr embedded in the stone next to his head. "She is the only reason you are alive," he said coldly, staring back at Arya. Pulling his sword out of the stone, he turned his back on the traitor and walked towards Arya. Two elven spellcasters grabbed Faolin and began to drag him to Nasuada.

Then it all fell apart.

In a single motion, Faolin fluidly broke free of his guards and grabbed one of their swords. Eragon, oblivious to what was happening, walked up to Arya, looked her deeply in the eyes, and continued walking. A raw scream forced Eragon to quickly turn around. The sight that greeted him turned his blood to ice.

Faolin stood behind him, sword raised in the air above his head, ready to attack a vulnerable Eragon. However, he stood unmoving, and Eragon glimpsed blood beginning to seep out of his mouth. To his shock, Arya stood in front of the elf. Her blade had pierced his heart, and was now protruding from his back.

Shock instantly overcame Arya. She threw her hands off of the bloodied blade as Faolin fell backwards onto the stone with a mundane finality. With his last breath, he gasped, "Arya..." Then, his eyes closed, never to open again.

Tears flowed freely from Arya's eyes. With a look of absolute shock and horror on her face, she turned and ran, away from the body of her former mate she had just killed.


	11. Chapter 11

**Hello again, my epic readers! (Okay, I'm gonna stop using epic now). Thanks to all the reviewers. Unbeknownst to all you reviewers (unbeknownst is my word of the day!) there was a contest between all the reviewers to see who could use the word epic most in their review. And the winner is... Korkman2, with a grand total of four "epics" in his review! Congratulations, Korkman2, you will now be known as: the Most Epic Reader! Yeaaaaah! Okay, enough with the funny business, now back to the story.**

**Sorry for the long wait! I wasn't sure how this chapter would turn out, so please let me know what you think of it. There is a lot less action than last chapter unfortunately, but it has as much emotion as ch. 10. This one is very angsty, so get ready! I know many of the readers thought it would be cliche for Arya to go straight from Faolin to Eragon. I totally agree with this, which is why this chapter is so angsty. **

**One more quick note: I am sorry for how many times Arya has cried. I went back and read my whole story and it seemed like she has cried every other chapter! I was sitting there thinking, "Why the heck is this stupid girl crying again! I want to rip out her tear ducts!" So, I an considering going back and editing some of those parts. You will be happy to know that Arya does not cry in this chapter! Anywho, enjoy the chapter, and please review! I really want to get to 100 reviews, so please!**

**Oh sorry, one last quick note, I promise! Please read my other story, Evolution of a Killer. I hate cheap advertising as much as the next guy, but please! I'm desperate! Anyways, it follows Galbatorix's life from as a child up to the current time, using CP's established plot, but with my own flare. Please read it!**

**SimplySupreme: I'm glad to see a fellow user of the word anywho! Anywho, the crowd was pretty shocked and scared out of their minds during the fight. Eragon was using Faolin as an example for anybody who betrayed the varden, so they were kinda scared. As for Faolin's strength, I assumed he has trained for decades in order to become the egg bearer's guard. I would think that he was pretty good with a sword, especially when he was fighting for his life. **

**RoK: thanks again for your help. I will try to update faster next chapter!**

**Eragontheone: Thanks for the epic title! You are now known as O Great Reader! And please read Evolution of a Killer!**

**WhiteWinterStar: But what about a Category 5 hurricane? Haha just kidding. As for the blade breaking part, I felt my description was awkward when I wrote it. I'm glad someone else noticed besides me! And please read Evolution of a Killer!**

**Korkman2: Good use of epic! **

**Vires Animus Sapientia: Is that a quote from Brom in the Eragon movie? And yes, you do seem insane. And please read Evolution of a Killer!**

**Draco: Hmmm, secret relationship with Glenwing? Now thats what I'm talking about! And please read Evolution of a Killer!**

* * *

><p>Chapter 11<p>

Arya ran.

She ran from the horrors she had just witnessed, the horrors she had just committed. She ran from her responsibilities, and her duty. She believed that if she ran fast enough, she could outrun her own emotions. But no matter how fast she ran, she could not escape them.

_I killed Faolin._ This simple thought brought a wave of guilt so powerful, she stumbled and nearly fell underneath its weight. Tears welled up and threatened to escape, but were held back._ Enough tears have been shed_, she thought. _There is enough sadness in this world already. _

Above her, the sun shined miraculously, in perfect contrast to the gruesome events of the day. To her surprise, Arya entered a small clearing within a grove of trees, the same place where she had spent the previous night, enduring the pain that came with her separation. Once again, she sat down upon the bed of needles and began to meditate. For several minutes, she tried to justify her actions.

_He betrayed the Varden. _

_He was a servant of the king. _

No matter how many times he repeated these justifications in her mind, one thought tore them all down.

_He did it for me. _

_And I killed him for it,_ she realized. Her body shook with emotion as she struggled to regain her composure. Even now, she could barely understand why she had acted so quickly. When she had seen that Eragon was in danger, all other thoughts had fled her mind. Nothing else had mattered except for Eragon, not even Faolin, the man she had once loved. Only Eragon.

Arya knew what this meant, but she pushed the thought to the back of her mind. It is too ridiculous, she told herself, attempting to quell her anxiety. But the thought pushed itself back to the front of her mind, demanding her attention. _It can't be_, she thought. _How can I be in love with Eragon?_

In her grieving mind, she came to a conclusion: she had killed Faolin for Eragon. After several more moments, she came to another conclusion, a conclusion that was erroneously affected by her intense grief: Faolin was dead because of Eragon. Anger surged through her veins, anger directed at Eragon. The rational part of her mind attempted to show how illogical this conclusion was, but for once, Arya's emotions controlled her mindset.

Suddenly, she sensed a figure approaching the figure. Had she not been so depressed and angry, she might have laughed at the irony of the situation. Seconds passed, and Eragon stepped into the clearing. His chocolate brown hair swayed in the breeze, as it bounced up and down lightly. On his face was an expression that Arya could read perfectly: absolute love and compassion.

"Arya," he murmured as he walked towards her. She refused to even acknowledge his presence, but continued to stare into the distance. Troubled, Eragon sat next to her and put his hand gently on her shoulder, intended as only a sign of friendship. Upon coming in contact with her shoulder, Arya whipped her head to face Eragon, shrugging his hand off her shoulder at the same time.

She stood quickly and coldly, staring at Eragon on the ground. "Why didn't you tell me before you decided to confront him?" she asked with no emotion in her voice. However, she could not prevent her hands from shaking with emotion.

A look of regret tinged Eragon's face. "I know I should have told you, but you disappeared! I looked for you all night, but I couldn't find you!" he said shamefully. Arya did not respond to the rider, but continued to ignore him. Finally, Eragon broke the icy silence between them.

"I am so sorry, Arya. It is all my fault. I never intended for anyone to get hurt, especially you." His voice trailed off, until silence enveloped the clearing once more. "The man you love is dead because of me, your mate..."

"He was not my mate," said Arya suddenly. "We separated last night. That is why you could not find me: I was here, trying to endure the pain."

"No..." murmured Eragon. "I never wanted for this to happen to you! This is all my fault," he repeated once more. "If there is anything..."

"You are right." interrupted Arya. "This is all your fault," she accused, glaring at Eragon, as flakes of anger leapt up within her eyes.

"Can you ever forgive me?" pleaded Eragon softly, guilt apparent on his face. He stepped close to her, lightly laying his hand upon her flawless cheek. For a moment, he stared into her eyes, trying to show her the regret and guilt that resided there. "I love you, Arya. I never wanted you to get hurt," he whispered.

Quick as an elf, Arya grabbed Eragon's wrist and whipped it away from her face. "No, Eragon." As she said that, she pushed him away and stepped backwards. Trying to contain her grief, she turned and began to leave. "I hate you," she whispered, and ran away, further from the city, further from Eragon.

_I hate you for capturing my heart. I hate you for making me love you, _she thought as she ran away, but these thoughts would never reach Eragon.

* * *

><p><em>She hates me. <em>

This single thought dominated Eragon's mind as he miserably trudged back to Belatona. He knew that he deserved the enmity; he was the cause of all of her heartbreak and pain. What hurt the most, however, was the hope he had nurtured. When he had stared deep into her emerald eyes, he had thought maybe, just maybe, that she returned the love he had for her. He could have sworn that he could see the love in her eyes. But he now knew that they would never be together.

_I am sorry, little one_, said Saphira, trying to comfort her distraught Rider._ It was never meant to be. _

Eragon merely ignored her comments, continuing to journey back to the city. After an hour of despair and misery, he finally arrived at the outer gates. As he strode through the city, he saw signs of departure scattered throughout the city. Tents began to be disassembled, and Eragon could sense the anxiety of many of the soldiers.

Continuing onward, he finally reached the command center. Present in the room were Nasuada, Jormundur, Orrin, and by means of scrying, Islanzadi and Orik. After mumbling his apologies, Eragon quickly took his seat in a corner of the room. Nasuada turned her gaze directly upon him.

"How did it go?" she asked plainly, obviously referring to Arya. In the mirror, Islanzadi looked worried and anxious about her daughter's condition.

"She does not wish to speak with me," replied Eragon. "She ran away when I tried to approach her." He withheld the conversation he had shared with Arya, unable to endure the pain again.

Nasuada sighed, and responded, "She will have to fend for herself. The Varden departs for Dras-Leona in two days, where we will meet with the dwarves. She must be back by then." she said strongly.

"She will be," defended Islanzadi. "Arya would never forget her duty."

Eragon stared into the distance, paying no attention to the meeting, merely trying to cope with the pain. "Eragon, are you with us?" asked Jormundur, seeing Eragon's distant expression.

The comment woke Eragon from his thoughts and he turned to face the leaders. "Yes, I am completely with you," he responded, knowing that the only way to deal with the pain was to devote his entire mind to the war, or in other words, to forget about Arya. "I am ready to serve."


	12. Chapter 12

**I'm back! Sorry for the hiatus, I just kinda lost motivation. But anyway, here's the new chapter. Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>Chapter 12<p>

Boom. Boom. Boom.

The war drums started their beat, ticking away the seconds left to live.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

Eragon's heart beat to the rhythm of the drums, ticking away the seconds of life left to the soldiers he would inevitably kill.

He stood at the forefront of the army, lowered onto one knee. He closed his eyes, focusing upon the beat of the drums.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

His eyes flicked open, scanning the surrounding area. The enormous gate of Dras-Leona loomed in front of him, guarding the entrance into the heart of the city. Already, the Varden had liberated thousands of peasants and enlisted them to the cause of freedom. Around him lay the slums of the city, where the unprotected peasants lived, abandoned by their leaders, who cowered behind the city wall. Anger boiled up within Eragon as he saw how these people lived. Shacks made of every sort of material balanced precariously, barely large enough for one grown man, let alone the entire families that inhabited it.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

Eragon turned his gaze to the gate, as fires raged within his eyes, burning unchecked. Next to him stood Saphira, silent as well.

_Shall we dance, friend-of-my-heart?_ asked Saphira, unfurling her massive wings. Eragon did not turn, but responded.

_For Garrow. For Brom. For Ajihad. For Hrothgar. For Oromis and Glaedr_, he thought, letting the anger rise to its climax.

_For Arya. _

Boom.

With a roar from Saphira, the pair attacked. Together, they sprinted and flew towards the gate in front of them, the gate through which Eragon had fled, just before Brom had died for him.

"Du grind jierda!" screamed Eragon, pouring all of the emotion of his soul into the spell. _Break the gates!_ He remembered how he had escaped Dras-Leona last time: as the gates closed on him and Brom, he had used magic to keep the doors open. From this, he knew that the gates were not protected against magic. Suddenly, a horrible screeching sound resonated through the air, just in time.

The pair crashed into the gate with all of their might, ramming their shoulders into the metal. The metal doors slammed open, revealing the scores of soldiers waiting behind.

With a roar and a scream, the pair dove into the fray, thrusting claw and sword into the vulnerable flesh before them. Eragon poured all of his pent up emotion into his strikes, leaving walls of flame where Brisingr whistled through the air.

Behind him, the cries of the free peoples of Alagaesia reached the heavens: humans, dwarves, Urgals, and elves, all united for a single purpose. Together, they charged, pouring into the city, willing to sacrifice their lives to conquer the city.

Finally, after several minutes, the tide of soldiers in front of Eragon thinned and eventually ceased, as no enemies remained to challenge him.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

The resounding thuds still filled Eragon's ears, signaling the doom of the city. All around him, the soldiers of the Varden surged forward, deeper into the city. However, Eragon did not move an inch, but stood still as his eyes scanned the crowds, looking for the familiar green.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

Finally, his eyes alighted upon what he sought. Among the thousands of soldiers, stood a raven-haired elf, graceful and lithe. She sprinted through the gates, but soon came to a stop as she entered the square where Eragon stood motionless. For a split second, their eyes met. In that instant, the young Rider tried to convey all of his regret and sorrow in that starr, but to no avail. Without a second glance, Arya turned her head and sprinted into a side street, into the danger beyond.

_Come, little one_, came Saphira's soothing voice, waking Eragon from his reverie. _Let us capture Marcus Tabor. _

Jumping up, Eragon clambered into the saddle as Saphira climbed into the air, searching for the leader of Dras-Leona.

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><p>Boom. Boom. Boom.<p>

For several seconds, the only sound that could be heard was the rhythmic beating if Saphira's mighty wings, displacing the air around her. Then, the screams of dying men penetrated the frosty air, shattering the silence. Trying to ignore the torment, the pair pushed on, towards the keep at the center of the city. Below them, Eragon saw the cathedral, spiraling into the air and towering above its neighbors. Rage and sadness rose in his chest, as he dealt with the memories he had experienced there.

Within a few more seconds, the sapphire dragon had landed in the courtyard of the magnificent courtyard of the city's palace. Made out of pure black granite, it towered over every building except for the cathedral. The streets slanted upwards to reach its enormous height. Ornate statues adorned the courtyard, also made of the same black granite. It was in this plush luxury that Marcus Tabor, ruler of Dras-Leona, lived.

Clambering off of Saphira, Eragon strode towards the grand doors that marked the entrance to the city. With a word in the Ancient Language, the doors flew open, revealing a dark hallway beyond.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

Eragon's footsteps rang out against the empty hallway, in rhythm with the drums outside. Strangely, the palace seemed to be devoid of life. He continued into the darkness, wary of ambush. Using the techniques taught to him by Oromis, he quickly located the minds of several individuals in a single room at the end of the passage. Redoubling his efforts, Eragon rapidly covered the distance to the door.

Ironically, it was painted pure white, in stark contrast to the black void all around. Applying energy to his sword, Eragon quickly cut through the locks with the magical fire, as the doors slowly creaked open.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

The floor seemed to shake as the sound waves from the drums penetrated it. On top stood three frightened individuals, each brandishing a shiny, obviously unused, sword. Wasting no time, Eragon quickly engaged two of the fighters, who stood protectively in front of the third.

Boom. Boom.

Two heads fell to the floor, separated from their bodies. The resounding thud echoed against the cold granite walls. Eragon now turned his attention to the final rebel.

"Marcus Tabor."

The man before Eragon was a fat, lazy man. Fear was etched into his face like hieroglyphs in sandstone. In his hand, the sword trembled dangerously, threatening to fall at any moment. "You will not take me!" he said defiantly, raising his sword. Eragon's grip tightened on his own sword as he prepared for an attack. "You think you have won, but you are wrong!"

"What do you mean?" Eragon asked mockingly. "Dras-Leona has fallen!"

Tabor merely laughed. His mirth bounced across the walls, which amplified it several times. He looked into Eragon's brown eyes and said, "Against the power that has arisen in the Black City, there is no victory!"

With those words, he raised his sword. Instead of attacking the Rider however, he flipped the sword and thrust it into his own heart. With a grunt, he fell to his knees, as his crimson blood spilled out onto the floor.

"No!" cried Eragon, running to the dying man. It was too late, however. With a final breath, Tabor fell forward onto his face, a sword protruding from his back.

Boom.

* * *

><p>Nasuada looked out over the city, surveying the carnage. Blood poured down the filthy streets, and soldiers from both camps lay dead upon the stones.<p>

After Eragon's effortless entrance into the city, the Varden was faring well. Against the incoming surge of soldiers, the Empire soldiers had performed very poorly. Many had already fled from the city before the Varden had begun the siege, and many more had surrendered to their cause. Furthermore, it was soon revealed that Galbatorix had not sent reinforcements, predicting the city would fall because of its poor defenses. Instead, he opted to gather all of his remaining regiments to Uru'baen, in preparation of the final battle that was on the horizon.

Sitting upon her massive warhorse, Stormcharger, Nasuada was receiving reports from several of her generals. Relatively few casualties had been reported. On the horizon, she spotted Eragon dismounting from Saphira and strolling towards them, a look of frustration apparent upon his features.

"Where is Tabor?" she asked him when he finally reached her.

"He killed himself before I could stop him," Eragon said ruefully, failure in his eyes. Hopelessness dominated his deep voice, as Nasuada perceived that something had occurred to trouble Eragon so.

"It is of little matter. Dras-Leona has fallen, and only small pockets of resistance remain," responded Nasuada. As she spoke, Eragon's eyes flicked back as forth across the streets, searching. "Eragon, what are you looking for?" she asked when he failed to respond.

Eragon's cheeks turned apple red as she asked him. "Oh, nothing, I was just..." he mumbled, trying to create an excuse.

Suddenly, an anguished cry tore through the air, immediately interrupting their conversation. A look of horror spread across Eragon's face as the blood drained from it. "No! It can't be!" he exclaimed, before tearing down the street towards the source of the cry.

* * *

><p><em>Not her!<em> thought Eragon desperately, sprinting at his maximum speed down one of Dras-Leona's many streets. Adrenaline powered his movements as he neared the source. Finally, he entered a small courtyard, surrounded by small shops and houses. A pile of bodies lay near the center, along with several Empire soldiers. Their swords were drawn, extended towards a figure kneeling on the ground. Midnight black hair fell from her head, and her hands were clasped to her chest.

"No!" Eragon screamed furiously, throwing himself recklessly at the soldiers with no care for his own safety. With several strokes of Brisingr, all of the soldiers lay dead, including the individual who had stabbed the woman from behind. With the threat eliminated, he turned to the elf lying at his feet.

"Arya," he whispered, kneeling down at the side of the mortally wounded elf. Blood poured from a wound in her chest, soaking her leather outfit. Upon closer inspection, Eragon realized that her heart had been pierced. Drawing upon his last reserves of energy, he whispered to her, "Don't give up on me! We are going to get through this together!"

"Waisse heil!" he yelled, placing his hand the wound. Energy streamed from his gedwey ignasia, bathing the pair in a brilliant sapphire light. Slowly, the muscles began to knit back together and the flow of blood staunched. However, her heart beat slower and slower, until it was only a faint whisper.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

"Please Arya! Don't leave me alone!" Eragon begged, but to no avail. Arya's breath came in short, ragged gasps, and blood seeped from her mouth.

Boom. Boom.

Emerald eyes found chocolate eyes for one last time. Eragon grasped her hand as tears ran down his cheeks. "I love you, Arya!" he promised.

Boom.

"No!" Eragon screamed into the sky, demanding an answer from the silent gods above. He began to pound upon Arya's chest, attempting to restart her heart. "I love you!" he screamed again, oblivious to his surroundings. Unknown to him, a crowd had gathered around him, heads bowed in reverence. Finally, Eragon's attempts slowed and stopped. He sat back, staring at the face of the only woman he would ever love. He stroked her cheek, and leaning forward, brought his lips to hers, in a last act of love. As their lips connected, his eyes widened with shock, unsure if he was hearing her heart or the war drums.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

* * *

><p><strong>What happened? Is she dead? Is she alive? It'll have to wait until next chapter!<strong>


	13. Chapter 13

**I'm back! Sorry for the long wait, I just lost motivation for this story. I hope you enjoy it. It is pretty short, and I am not that pleased with it. I am sorry if Arya is OOC in it, I am just eager to finish this story up.**

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><p>Chapter 13<p>

"The songs of the dead are the lamentations of the living." -Eldest, page 1

Death treaded down the streets of Dras-Leona, carrying with him the souls of the slain.

Cold, freezing rain fell from the blackened sky, drenching the war stained earth and washing the blood from the streets. Left and right, soldiers scurried to find refuge from the gale. Eragon, however, welcomed the storm and its might. The freezing rain helped to numb the anguish and agony that pierced his broken heart. Drops of water fell from his messy hair, although to Eragon they felt like drops of blood.

_Gone_. With that single thought, all of his pain and suffering resurfaced anew, causing him to grab his chest. Heartbreak was a term he had often heard; he never understood until now how true it was. His own heart threatened to split in two, and each beat pained him. Without Arya, it was hard to keep living.

Despite his best efforts, Arya's heart had ceased to beat, and the life had faded from her wounded body. He had failed to save her. Unable to stare at her lifeless corpse, he had walked shamefully through the streets, head hung low in despair.

A bright flash illuminated the sky as a bolt of lightning struck, followed by a loud peal of thunder. In synchrony with nature's fury, he screamed at the top of his lungs into the driving rain.

"What more do you want from me?" he demanded as another bolt split the air. "There is nothing left to take!" he yelled with waves of rain water flowed down his face, mixing with hot tears. For a minute, he stood in that position, on the outskirts of the city, shaking with emotion. So anguished was he that he failed to hear the footsteps approaching.

The figure stood behind Eragon, watching, observing. For several minutes, the individual remained perfectly still, as the Rider descended into the depths of misery. Finally, she spoke into the wind.

"What is troubling you, Eragon?" she spoke softly, just loud enough for the young man to hear. Instantly, he spun around, his chocolate eyes fixing onto her emerald orbs like a laser. Disbelief sprawled across his face as he stumbled forward.

"I thought you were dead!" he exclaimed. "I must be dreaming," Eragon muttered, shaking his soaked head. In response, Arya stepped forward and gently placed her hand upon his cheeks. "This is no dream," she whispered softly, before bringing her other hand to his face. Slowly, yet deliberately, she brought her lips to his.

Astonishment and shock flashed across Eragon's face, but did not pull away. After an eternity of several seconds, the pair broke away, staring into each other's eyes.

"I thought you hated me," asked Eragon unsurely.

Arya chuckled in response. "Men can be so dense," she muttered. "I told a half lie," she explained. "I hated you for causing these feeling within me, feeling that I have never felt before, even with Faolin," she concluded.

"But how are you even alive?" prodded Eragon once more. Arya let out a deep sigh, before explaining once more.

"If you would have stayed around, you would have realized that my heart had started beating again after your kiss," she said gently.

"For a while, I thought I had lost you forever," admitted Eragon.

"For a moment there, so did I," Arya confessed as she ran her hands through Eragon's soaked hair.

"One more question," began Eragon, only to be interrupted by Arya.

"Are you going to keep asking questions, or are you going to kiss me?" she demanded angrily.

"Let me answer that," he said with a grin before pulling her into an embrace and pressing his lips to hers.

The couple remained like that, locked in each other's arms, as the rain washed away their grief.


	14. Chapter 14

So... I decided to write one last chapter for you guys. I haven't really set up a huge plotline outside of ExA, so I can't really make this realistic. Instead, I am going to leave it up to the readers to imagine what happens after the last sentence... And yes, I know it is very short, but it is not meant to be a full chapter, just a small little snippet to satisfy you readers.

On a good note, I have decided to write my own book 4. I am hoping to finish it before Inheritance gets released (yes, I know that is a big task). So, I will plan on a chapter a day until November 8. I don't know if I will be able to do it, but I will definitely try. Be on the lookout for it! Anyway, back to the story, and enjoy the last chapter of Deception.

* * *

><p>Chapter 14<p>

"Come meet your fate!" Galbatorix roared into the sky, his voice magically amplified. Its sonorous ringing reached every crevice and corner of the land.

The sky was painted coal black, hiding the stars from view. Even the moon hid from view, away from the battle that would soon commence. Thousands of small fires flickered in and out of existence in both camps, a sea of flames before an iron mountain.

Uru'baen lay before the Varden, towering above them in all its might. The Jaws of Death, the gates to the Black City, loomed ahead, yet closed, a wall of metal impossible to breach. Thousands of soldiers stood their ground, fingering their weapons nervously.

The constant beat of wings alerted Eragon to his current predicament. In the sky above him, he could just barely discern two glowing eyes, filled with hate and malice. With a word in the Ancient Language, he projected a ball of light into the darkness above. At its peak, the ball exploded in a fury of light, revealing the massive dragon and Rider hovering there.

Fear gripped Eragon's body as he realized that the time had finally arrived. Every battle, every siege had led to this: the end had come.

"Come meet your fate!" Galbatorix taunted again, in synchrony with a savage roar from Shruikan. Cold sweat filled Eragon's palms as yet another dragon came into view. Thorn and Murtagh sliced through the air, coming to a halt next to their master.

Using his mind to locate her, Eragon ran with as much alacrity as he could muster towards the partner of his heart. Finally, he found the majestic sapphire dragon, staring placidly back at her sworn enemies. Cold steel covered her entire body, in preparation for the final battle that had finally arrived. Suddenly, she roared in defiance, unleashing a stream of blue fire, illuminating the oppressive darkness.

"Let us meet our fate," spoke Eragon softly as he reached her. He grabbed her saddle and prepared to embark on his destiny, before a soft hand pulled him back.

Arya stood behind him, trepidation sprawled across her usually emotionless face. With a sense of urgency, she pulled him down into a strong embrace, as if it was the last time they would ever meet again. "Fight for me," she whispered before she kissed him gently.

Eragon looked at her in understanding, but she continued. "Fight for the life we will share," she begged. "Fight for our love!" A single tear fell from her emerald eye, before being wiped away by the blue Rider. "Return to me," she pleaded once more, staring intently into his brown eyes.

"I will return," Eragon whispered in the Ancient Language, sealing his fate. With one last kiss, he withdrew from Arya's loving embrace and climbed onto Saphira. He turned and watched as the raven haired elf grew smaller and smaller below him, while each beat of Saphira's wings brought him closer to his destiny.

_I will return._


End file.
